


Mad Spaced

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary, Spaced
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in 2004, this takes the events of Spaced, but puts Rae and Finn in the main roles. I'm a fan of both shows, and started to imagine Rae and Finn meeting as aimless twenty-somethings and thought it would be cool to drop them and the gang into this world, the quarter-life crisis in a big city thing, friends being the family of the 21st century, just to see what happens. The first few chapters stick pretty close to Spaced, but then the events start to diverge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is about the first five minutes of the first episode of Spaced. I've sort of amalgamed the characters of Rae and Daisy, mashed up Finn and Tim, and the supporting characters are kind of a mix, too.
> 
> I'm pretty sure that MMFD fans will like this and Spaced fans will be annoyed with me. But I had to acknowledge my inspiration, obviously!

**North London, 2004**

_Okay, Rae, you are twenty-four years old. You should not be sleeping with strange men who turn out to be technically homeless as a way of dealing with the fact that your boyfriend lives 200 miles away. That is bad behavior and you are above all that!_

She shook her head to try and forget about last night and think about Richard instead. Lovely, kind Richard, up there in Hull, finishing his second degree. She’d taken four years to earn a third in Humanities, which is fine, because that’s what she expected to get, anyway. It was fine. Michelle from EastEnders got a third, as she would be quick to point out to anyone who made a face after she revealed her grade. She could have tried harder, but just couldn’t be arsed. After hanging around Hull for a couple of years, living with Richard and working odd jobs where she was almost invariably fired after the first paycheck, she decided she needed a change of scene.

She’d come to London a year ago, to try and be a writer, but she felt that no one ever got what she was trying to do. She wanted to smash the patriarchy, but be funny about it, and maybe write about bands and how music had gone to shit just lately. If that didn’t work, she could always write articles about skin care for  _Grazia_. She was currently on the dole.

The first thing she needed to do was move out of the squat she had found herself living in. It was like something out of  _Trainspotting_ , for fuck’s sake, and though she wanted gritty, real experiences to color her writing, she didn’t actually want to walk in on a girl fellating a junkie while he shot himself up. As glamorous as Irvine Welsh made it all sound, deep down she knew she was a little too boring to be a drug-addict. A spliff now and again was as far as she ever ventured down the dangerous path of illegal substances.

She pushed the door to the cafe open, wearily, and after she bought herself a cup of tea, managed to snag the last empty table, and sat down to face the windows, so that when she got bored of trawling through descriptions of flats she couldn’t afford, she could look up and people watch.

* * *

Finn peered into the window, eyes scanning the cafe. It was full. Full of twats, some in suits on their lunch break and some in pseudo-grungewear taking a break from all responsibility. He just wanted a place to sit down and look through the flats for rent section of the paper he’d found on a park bench.

He resented finding himself in this position. He and Stacey were good together. Well, comfortable, at least. So, why had she thrown everything away to cheat on him with her boss, Duane? Ugh. And she was kicking HIM out? Sure, she paid most of the rent, but for fuck’s sake. He wanted to jump on his skateboard and carve up the pavement, get some of his frustrations out, but he was twenty-five years old and the average age of the kids at the park was depressing close to half his. 

The only free seat in the whole place was across from a girl with long dark hair, wearing a leather jacket and a band t-shirt. He folded his second hand copy of The Telegraph up and stuffed it in his back pocket as he queued to get his coffee. A moment later, he found himself standing next to her table. “Um, sorry, d’ya mind if I sit here?” She looked up, slightly startled, but then smiled. “Uh, no! No, go right ahead.” She gestured to the seat across from her, eyes meeting his for a split second, before looking back at the paper in front of her.

She was looking at the classifieds, too. As he pulled his paper from his back pocket and started to unfold it, he asked, “What’re ya lookin’ for?”

The girl’s head shot up. “Nothin’! What d’ya mean?”

Finn shook his head and pointed at their papers. “Don’t worry, I jus’ meant I’m lookin’ for a flat and wondered if you were, too.”

She visibly relaxed, and simply said, “Oh.”

Finn took his knit cap off and peered over at her.  “What, did ya think I were a drug dealer or somethin’?” He grinned.

“Nah, jus’ … well, maybe.”

“Ah, thanks a lot!” He laughed and the girl smiled back. “I’m Finn, by the way.” He stuck his hand out to be shaken.

The girl looked at it for a moment, like she didn’t trust it, but eventually timidly shook it. “Rae. As in Rachel.”

“Nice to meet ya.”

* * *

The next day Rae got to the cafe earlier. She flashed back to yesterday, and chatting with that bloke, Finn. He was proper fit, but seemed cool. Easy-going, maybe? She was always catching herself talking too fast and she was sure he was bored by her rapid fire prattling about how she’d ended up in her horrid, squalid squat. He had wrinkled his nose and joked, “Skip to the end?” when she found herself merrily sprinting along a tangent. “So … I’m moving out!” she finished, a cheery note in her voice. He was nice, commiserating about having to find a new place, too. Too bad she’d probably never see him again.

She’d looked at three places this morning, which were all just as bad if not worse than where she was living now. The only major difference was that they were a hell of a lot smaller. She was musing about going back to Hull as she bought her tea, and liberally dosed it with cream and sugar. She splashed out and treated herself to a banana, as well. She’d just turned around to sit at the same table as yesterday, and found that Finn had apparently arrived just as she had and claimed it, sitting on the same side as yesterday. She glanced around, the cafe was filling up. Should she sit somewhere else? Just as she made to walk past, he looked up and gestured hello with his eyebrows. “Any luck?” he asked.

She paused, shrugged, and plonked herself down opposite him. “No, but it’s early days yet. You?”

He just shook his head slowly, turning the page of his paper. “‘M’gonna hafta find somewhere soon, though. I’ve been crashing at my mate’s place, and his mum isn’t too happy abou’ it.” He looked up at her. “Save my spot? I’m gonna grab a cup of coffee.”

Rae nodded, hoping she looked nonchalant, but as soon as he walked away, she let her eyes bug out of her head. What was happening?

When he got back, they chatted easily. She found out he’d just split up with his girlfriend. He was kind of upset about it, but she thought she detected that he probably thought it was inevitable. She was usually good about reading people, and it seemed to her that he’d probably gotten complacent in the relationship. Of course, she didn’t make any comparisons to her own arrangement with Richard. In fact, she didn’t mention him at all that day.

* * *

Finn was kind of chuffed to see Rae’s dark hair and leather jacket in line for a drink when he came in the cafe. He saw the table they’d been sitting at yesterday empty, so he slid into the same seat he’d occupied yesterday and waited for her to turn around. There’d been one split second when he thought she might walk on past him, but when he asked her if she’d had any luck, she immediately sat down opposite him and they chatted for an hour. She was a right laugh, and he could use someone fun in his life just now.

When they started to get dirty looks from the staff, Rae stood up and said, “Well, I’d better see about a few of these before they get snapped up.”

As she walked to the door, Finn twisted around in his seat and said, “Maybe I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

She glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

Over the next week, they met up at the cafe almost everyday. One day Finn came in wearing an Aquaman costume and carrying an inflatable guitar, looking sheepish. 

“What have you come as?” Rae snorted with laughter. 

“I work at a record store SLASH comics shop, and we’re havin’ a promotion. Buy three CDs and get a free comic. Oi, quit laughin’!”

“Sorry, mate, it’s hard to take you serious in that get up. Are you on your break or somethin’?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, I work ‘round the corner, at the Fantasy Music Bazaar.”

Rae raised her eyebrows. He’d come to have a coffee with her on his break? Interesting.

She shook her head, and just then her mobile buzzed on the table next to her hand. “Oh, bollocks,” she muttered, when she saw who it was.

“Mmm?” Finn asked through a sip of coffee.

“Oh, it’s just … my boyfriend, Richard.”

Finn cleared his throat and sat up straighter, scratching his head for a minute. “Oh? Trouble in paradise?” he asked in a voice somewhat higher than Rae had gotten used to.

“Nah, just … never mind. Everythin’s cool; just, long-distance can be tough at times.” 

Finn nodded like he understood, but from what Rae could work out, he’d only had the one long-term girlfriend, and he’d moved in with her right after uni. 

“Anyway, back to the hunt; I’ll text him back later.”

They both turned their attention to their papers.

A couple of days later, Finn flopped into the chair opposite Rae, nodding hello. 

“How’s it goin’?” Rae asked, the slightest edge of concern in her voice.

Finn sighed, “Oh, y’know. Same as always.”

“That bad, huh?” 

They both laughed at that. Finn had stopped trawling the parks for papers; they now shared the two free papers that Rae picked up every morning. It was hard, because they were essentially looking for the same thing, but somehow they’d never run into one another looking at a place. Finn stood up. “I’m gettin’ a sandwich. Y’want one?” 

Rae shook her head. She couldn’t afford to pay him back at the moment; she didn’t get her benefits until Friday. Plus, she never really liked eating in front of someone else. A cup of tea was one thing, but a sandwich, no.

Finn came back to the table and took a massive bite. He got a smear of mustard on his cheek, and took two more bites before Rae subtly got his attention. She inclined her head and gestured between her cheek and his. 

“What? What is it?” Finn didn’t know what she was on about. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Rae exhaled and grabbed a napkin to wipe it off his face. 

Finn looked down, embarrassed. “Hey, thanks.”

“No worries, mate. I’d expect the same from you. Friends don’t let friends walk around lookin’ like knobheads.”

Finn grinned up at her, finishing his sandwich with smaller bites. 

* * *

So, they were friends, eh? That was good. Finn didn’t have many friends. There was Chop, his best mate, the one he was stopping with. They’d been friends since they were kids, but Chop was way into his Territorial Army gig. It was fun, sometimes, but other times, Finn wished he’d just relax a bit. And there was Bilbo, his boss at Fantasy. (He’d heard a rumor that Bilbo’s real name was Kester, which would explain the name change.) 

The next day, though neither of them realized it, was their two week anniversary of meeting up. Rae showed up in a strange satin jacket; it was a little too hot for her usual leather one. She stared dead-eyed out at the passersby, and Finn glanced at her uneasily. He ventured a cautious, “Any luck?”

Rae snapped. “No, I haven’t had nor will I EVER have, any luck!” Her face crumpled a bit. “I can’t DO this anymore!” She started tearing up, and Finn didn’t know what to do. He looked around, but everyone pretended not to notice that Rae was breathing heavily and rambling loudly. 

“Whoa, there, pickle!” He couldn’t help it, his nan’s pet name for him slipped out. She’d always call him Pickle when he got upset. But before he could say anything else, Rae continued.

“Every morning it’s the same! I wake up and phone all the places I’ve circled out of the Evening Standard, only to discover they’ve been taken by a bunch of fuckin’ PSYCHIC HOUSE HUNTERS!”

“Well, y’know, you’ve only looked at a few …” He reached his hand out to sort of pat the air near her shoulder, not sure if he should actually touch her when she was upset. 

“Yeah! And they’ve all been cold, infested rat-holes!” 

“Well, I’m in the same boat and you don’t see me … gettin’ upset.” Just then, he did get swept up in a feeling of hopelessness. Was he going to be kipping on Chop’s mum sofa until he was forty? The two of them had a collective grump, Rae burying her head in her arms on the tabletop and Finn pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rae sniffed loudly, and began to sit up, away from the table. “Oh, hang on. I didn’t see this one!” She pointed to a listing in tiny print near the bottom of the page and read: “ _Spacious two-bedroom apartment, fully furnished, 100 pounds a week._ ” Rae looked up at Finn, hope in her tear-filled eyes. His eyes fell to the listing and he saw another line, which he read out: “Professional couple only.”

Rae slumped forward again, “Why? Why? Why?”

He hated to see anyone this way, and he could understand why she’d hit the wall. Just then, an idea came to him. “You could always lie,” he suggested.

“What d’ya mean?” Rae raised her head, looking at him curiously. 

“Well, have you got any homeless male friends?” 

“How—?” Rae shook her head, but then she looked off to the side, clearly working on this puzzle. Then she turned back. “Well, I do have one homeless male friend …” She smiled at him, and he wondered who it could be, until she was still smiling at him a minute later. 

“Who?” he asked. She just kept smiling at him, and then he realized. 

It was him.


	2. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now we’re a whole NINE minute into episode 1 of Spaced! At this pace, I’ll be writing 75 chapters! (Okay, that’s highly unlikely.)

> _  
> Spacious two-bedroom apartment, fully furnished, £100 a week. Professional couple only. Contact 020 7794 1331._

Finn sighed. This place really did sound perfect. And he’d hung out with Rae enough in the last two weeks to know he could stand being around her. Okay, maybe he even liked her a little. Which, for roommates, was all you really needed, right? Someone who wouldn’t drive you right round the buggering twist. Right?

He sighed again and looked up at Rae, who was giving him the hopeful look of someone who wanted a pony for her birthday and thought if she raised her eyebrows and smiled just right, she could get it. But what if living with her was awful? What if she was an utter slob, or worse, a neat freak? What if she snored so loud the walls shook? What if—?

_You know what?_  he thought.  _Fuck it._

“Yeah, okay. What d’we hafta do?”

Rae bounced once in her seat, her smile stretching into a toothy grin. “Great!”

 

She pulled a notebook out of her bag and said, “Okay, we need to act quick. I’ll phone the number on my mobile, and see when we can get an appointment, but we’ll probably have to get background on each other. Y’know, to be convincing.”

“As what?”

“A couple. A professional couple, like the advert says.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“It’ll be like that film, with Andie MacDowell and Gerard Do-bee-do. You know? They one where they pretend to be married so she can keep her place and he can get an … American work permit.”

“Greencard?”

“Yeah! But what’s the movie called?”

Finn shrugged.

Rae finished dialing and held a finger up as the phone rang. Finn made a face at her; he wasn’t going to say anything, but now he kind of wanted to mess with her while she made the call. Just to see what she would do. She was fun to mess with. She twisted in her seat so he didn’t distract her, and then said, “Hi! This is Rae-um, Rachel Earl. I was calling in response to your ad for the flat?  _(pause)_  Yes, my boyfriend and I would love to come by and view the place.  _(quick pause)_ When would be convenient for you?  _(long pause)_  Today at half-three?” She twisted back her expressing asking “Is that okay?” Finn nodded, and she twisted back to say, “That’s perfect. We’ll see you then, then.” She then laughed, loud and false, in response to something the person on the other end said. “Yes, yes! You, too!” Then she hung up.

Rae scribbled down the address at the top of the blank page, as she muttered. “23 Meteor Street, Apartment B. That’s not far from here, I think.” Then, to Finn, she said, “Okay, we don’t have much time. I think we should do a basic dossier on each other. You know, family history, education, likes, dislikes, fears, dreams.”

Finn nodded. “Oh, yeah, simple. Just boil our entire existences down to a page.”

Rae flashed him a look. “Hey, now. People do it all the time. We’ll have plenty of time to actually get to know each other better if we get the flat, yeah?”

Finn stared at her for a moment, until Rae looked up and caught his eye. “Oh, I meant as friends. Just friends!”

He nodded. “Yeah, o’course! Sorry, just spaced out there for a second.”

“None of that, until we get the flat. Now, focus up!”

_**Name:**  Rachel Daisy Earl_   
_**Age:**  24_   
_**Born:**  Stamford, Lincolnshire, December 13, 1979_   
_**Parents:**  Linda and Victor “Total Bastard” Earl, Stepfather: Karim Bouchtat_   
_**Siblings:**  Younger sister, Jasmine, 8 years old_   
_**Education:**  Humanities B.A., University of Hull_

_**Name:**  Finn Timothy Nelson_   
_**Age:**  25_   
_**Born:**  Peterborough, Cambridgeshire, April 11, 1979_   
_**Parents:**  John and Phyllis Nelson, divorced_   
_**Siblings:**  none_   
_**Education:**  Two years at University of Lincoln, no degree_

“You grew up in Stamford? That’s so crazy; I was in Peterborough!”

“Yeah, that is weird.” A moment of silence passed between them before Rae shook her head and plunged headlong into the matter at hand. “Okay, so where’d we meet?”

Finn looked around at the café, like it was obvious.

“Not  _actually_ , you numpty. For the purposes of our sham relationship.”

“Oh! Um, introduced by friends?”

“Nah, that complicates things. Just, like, a place. But not uni, ‘cause I don’t wanna lie about everything.” She tapped the end of her pen distractingly against her bottom lip.

Finn closed his eyes to clear his head. “Well, what about the store?”

“What store?”

“The one where I work? Fantasy Music Bazaar?”

“Yeah, that’s good! I was buying an album … which one?”

Finn mused, puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled. This was not something to take lightly. You couldn’t just say any album; it had to be believable, something so good he’d fall in love with her based on the record alone. “Well, how long have we been together?”

“Oh, good point. I’d say we have to say over a year, or else it looks weird to be moving in together.” Neither one detected the slightest amount of irony in that statement, as Rae continued, “How long were you and Stacey together?”

Finn ducked his head. “Um, seven years?”

Rae’s eyes widened. “Seven YEARS? Holy shit! I thought I was in it for the long haul going out with Richard for TWO.” Finn looked up at her and she must’ve seen something in his eyes, because she whispered, “Sorry, didn’t … sorry.” Finn sniffed and shrugged. He’d actually kind of seen it coming, but was too lazy and complacent to do anything about it. He could have gotten out himself, or tried harder to keep her, but instead he just rode it out until she met someone else.

“Okay,” Rae tried to get them back on track. “So, somewhere between two and seven, then. What about, five years, three months, eight days?”

“That’s … weirdly specific, but okay … Who were you into in 1999?”

Rae thought back. The first thing that popped into her head was, “Cake.”

As soon as she said it, Finn leaned forward, “Prolonging the Magic?”

Together, “Yeah!” They both scribbled that down on their sheets of paper, and then Finn sat back, trying to look cool. “That’s a good album. I’d definitely have talked to you about that one if you’d bought it from me.”

Rae kept her eyes on her paper, nodding as she finished her note. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Finn uttered that syllable with conviction, and Rae glanced up.

“Well, good. You’d’ve been stupid not to chat me up after I picked such a mint CD.”

They both laughed and then Rae snapped back into business mode, “Okay, what else? Oh, here’s something, what side of the bed do you sleep?”

“Well, right now, I’m crammed onto a sofa at Chop’s.”

“Well,  _when_  you shared a bed, then. Which side?”

Finn looked up, trying to recall. “Ummm, left.”

“Huh.” Rae wrote down his answer.

“What?”

“Nothin’. Just, I usually sleep on the right. Which would be convenient, but we’re not really a couple.”

“Yeah, right! And, they’re not REALLY gonna ask us which side we sleep.”

Rae rolled her eyes. “No, I know! I just thought, better to know too much than get caught out.”

“No, yes. Good thinking.” Finn cleared his throat and doodled on the margin of the paper.

“Oh, okay! Here’s something! Where’d you get that scar?”

Finn looked up, startled. “What scar?”

Rae reached across the table to tap his right cheekbone. “That one.”

His face tingled where she lightly touched his face. “Oh! Right.” Finn frowned. He had forgotten about that. It was pretty faint, you could only see it in the right light, or if you were really looking. “Well, Chop and me were messing about one afty, hanging around in this tree in his yard. We both … well, I fell from the branch and scraped my cheek on the way down on some pointy bit of bark. Got a couple stitches, but … nothing too serious.”

Rae nodded, eyes focused on his cheek. Her lower lip stuck out in the tiniest of pouts. “That must’ve hurt,” she murmured.

Finn felt his face flush, and wanted to change the subject. “What about you? Got any scars? Any horror stories?”

Rae literally froze in front of his face.  _Oh, shit_ , he thought. He wished he could rewind the last few seconds, but she just shook her head and said, “None you can see” in a quiet voice. That statement made him very nervous, but in the next beat, she lightened the mood and said, “Unlike SOME people, I wasn’t dumb enough to hang out in trees, ruining my face.”

He laughed, and looked at her face while she crossed out something on her notepad. It certainly wasn’t ruined. But, wait … “I didn’t ruin my face!”

Rae shrugged, “‘F’you say so.” Then she looked up at him and grinned. Finn picked up a cold chip and threw it at her. “Cheeky … !”

“Alright, alright! I give!” she held her hands up as he pelted her with chips. “Your face isn’t ruined. Now, let’s talk friends.”

Finn forgot the chips were over an hour old and ate one, grimacing at the cold, mealy texture. “Whad’ya mean?” he mumbled through the bite of crumbly potato.

“My best friend is Twist. Her real name’s Chloe, but she’s trying to make a go of it in fashion. Thought it would help distinguish her. She’s … alright.”

“That’s a ringing endorsement!“ he grinned. "Oh, well, I mentioned Chop. We’ve been best mates since primary. His family moved down here after college and me and Stacey wanted to try livin’ in London, so we found a place nearby to his. He’s in the Territorials, like I said, and takes it very serious.”

“If he’s so serious, why doesn’t he just join the regular army?”

“He … needs glasses, so he can’t. Too much of a liability, they told him.”

“Oh,” Rae made a note. “What about allergies?”

“Uh, I dunno, you’d hafta ask Chop.”

“No, YOU, daft twat. Do YOU have any allergies?”

“Oh! Yeah, Brazil nuts. I got into a can when I was six, and as a result, I have no memory of Christmas 1984. Mind you, I have no memory of Christmas 1997, either.”

“Oh, right!” Rae leaned forward, poised to record another fact. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Riiiight. Onto aspirations, then! You want to be a musician SLASH graphic artist, but you’ve only ever drawn posters for sales at work, and you’re pissed that Damon Albarn beat you to the punch with Gorillaz.”

“I never said that!”

“Clearly a touchy subject.”

“I just would’ve drawn the band m’self. AND I wouldn’t have used so many synthesizers.” Finn crossed his arms and looked away.

“Okay, fine. Now, you do me.”

That snapped him out of his grump. “What?”

“Ask me some more things. I mean, I know that you like some halfway decent music; your preferred mode of transport is skateboarding; you wear boxer briefs. AND you regularly masturbate to images of Sarah Michelle Gellar.”

“I never said THAT!” Finn shouted, and the waitress turned around to shush him.

Rae giggled and whispered, “You bent my ear about Buffy for twenty minutes last week. Of COURSE you wank to her.”

“Yeah, well, FHM voted her Most Sexy Woman in the World in 1999.”

“That’s right, they did. Fair dos. So, ask me some more stuff.” Rae poked Finn’s arm with her pen cap.

“Look, is all of this really necessary?” Finn protested, feeling like he knew her pretty well as it was.

“What if we’re asked a number of intimate personal questions? Go on, do me!”

“Fine!” He recited her stats quickly, then said, “You’ve got a boyfriend called Richard, who’s studying in Hell—“

“Hull!”

Finn pretended to correct his sheet. “—Hull. But we’re not going to talk about him. Hmm, you’ve got no skin care routine to speak of …” He looked up, thinking she’d be annoyed, but she just put a hand up to show off her bare face and fluttered her eyelashes as a jovial response. Something else fluttered, but he shook his head and continued. “You want to be a journalist, but you haven’t _quite_  tried that yet … and you’re scared of mice and spiders, but you also secretly fear that the two species will one day cross-breed and create an all-powerful race of mice-spiders who immobilize humans in giant webs in order to steal cheese.”

“I never said that!” It was Rae’s turn to protest.

“No, but that’d be cool, wouldn’t it? Like a sci-fi movie?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Rae conceded. “Though I’d never go see it.” She shuddered at the notion.

“Okay, so … should we mosey? It’s already after two, and we don’t even know where this place is yet.”

“Let’s go to the cornershop and use their A-Z!” Rae grabbed her bag and they walked out of the chippy toward the shop. As they walked in, the bell on the door rang. Rae started to make a beeline for the maps, but Finn pulled on the sleeve of her jacket.

“What?” he asked.

He jerked his head over her shoulder at the photo booth. “We should take a few pictures. Like that movie … whatever it’s called. In case we get the flat, we’ll have something to stick on the wall day one.”

Rae hesitated.

“t’d be suspicious if we’re together for five years and don’t have ANY photographic evidence, don’t you think?”

She finally nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Finn fished a pound coin out of his pocket and held the curtain back for Rae to go in first. She squished herself in the corner of the booth, and Finn had to coax her back to the middle.

“We’ve gotta look like we’re a couple, right?” he said. Rae’s eyes widened, but she nodded. It was like she had forgotten that all this was her idea in the first place. “Okay, then, get closer!”

They took one with their cheeks pressed together, serious, one where they were smiling, one where they “gazed” into each other’s eyes. When that got too heavy, Rae said, “Goofy one!” and they each made a ridiculous face for the camera.

Finn fished the strip of photos out of the machine and Rae tucked it into her notebook before he could even inspect them to see if they were any good. “Should we take another set?” he asked her.

“Nah,” she said. “Let’s wait and see if we get the place first.”


	3. This Place Is Really Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I decided to power on through and get most of the way through this first episode. In future chapters, I plan to give you more of what the characters think about the situation, but for now I wanted to set up the arrangement, introduce a couple of characters, and blah blah blah. Things’ll start deviating from the original plot pretty soon …

_“Five three eight, five three eight_  …” They both chanted it under their breath as they walked down the street towards Number 23. They hadn’t even noticed that they’d fallen into step with each other. When the two of them got to the gate outside 23 Meteor Street, they shook hands and Rae pushed it open. When Finn was through, he pulled it shut behind him, and then glanced at her hand before clasping it inside his own. Rae looked over at him, bewildered, but he just shrugged and said, “Keeping up the charade.” Rae nodded _Oh right of course_.

When they were at the front door, Rae rang the bell for M. Dewhurst, pressing the button twice.

She turned to Finn and said, “I forgot what you got for your fifth birthday!”

“Miniature drum kit,” Finn answered quickly.

“Right.”

A moment passed and Finn raised his hand to knock. Rae put her hand out to stop him.

“We don’t want to look too eager!” she admonished. But the next second, she was ringing the bell again.

As the door started to swing open, Finn put his arm around Rae, hooking her close to him, and she leaned her head towards his shoulder, trying to look natural.

When the door was fully open, there stood a woman of indeterminate middle age. She could have been a hard forty or young sixty, with dyed red hair, a permanently clenched jaw, and a cigarette in hand. She was wearing a peasant skirt and flowy top, both in varying shades of that could be described as “dust”.

“Hello,” she said in a pleasant but odd voice. “I’m Marsha. Marsha Dewhurst.”

“Hi!” Finn replied first. “We’re, uhhhh …”

“—a couple!” Rae supplied enthusiastically. They both chuckled nervously while Marsha nodded, looking bewildered.

“Great, come on in, then.”

They followed her slumped figure up the stairs to the first floor flat, giving her their names as they walked. She opened the door, and it was like music started playing from somewhere. There was a large open living area with a kitchen. Though this was Rae’s idea, Finn seemed to be leading the proceedings. “Oh, yeah, this place is really nice,” he remarked, hoping Rae would jump in.

“Yeah, it’s a great flat.” Marsha nodded, sucking in a lungful of smoke.

“Um, Finn got a miniature drum kit for his fifth birthday!” Rae chirped.

Marsha looked confused. “You what?”

Finn shot Rae a look before walking over to the first door on the right. “What’s through here?”

He opened it and stepped over the threshold into a small bedroom. It was painted a cheery yellow, and had a twin bed, along with a side table and dresser. Rae and Marsha followed, waving her cigarette around in her hand, showing off the space. “This is the guest bedroom, but you can use it for whatever you’d like. An office, or storage. Or a nursery, if you two were thinking of having children.”

Rae and Finn both giggled nervously; their eyes darting everywhere but at each other. But they both sensed Marsha’s eyes on them and calmed down enough for Finn to clear his throat and say, “No, yeah. It’s perfect for a child.”

Rae nodded, “Yeah, yeah. It’s very …” she was searching for a word, when she was usually never at a loss for them.

“Cozy?” Finn supplied.

“Yeah, cozy! Very cozy! I love coziness. I also like the … baseboards. Very straight.”

Finn gave Rae a look that said,  _What are you ON about?_

She shrugged, and they turned their attention to the larger bedroom. “This is where you two will be sleeping,” Marsha nodded toward the double bed against the wall. “This room gets nice light in the morning.”

Rae and Finn simultaneously hummed their interest in the light, nodding like it was perfect for the two of them, even though they were both wondering who would get this room and who would be stuck with the “guest bedroom.”

Back in the main area, Rae stuck her head into the pantry, only to find a pair of identical twins in Girl Scout uniforms staring back at her.

“We’ve finished cleaning the cupboard, Mrs. Dewhurst,” they chanted in unison.

Rae screamed and Finn jumped back, putting his hands up like he was going to karate chop someone. “What the fuuuh-fuh-fine upstanding girls!” Rae stuttered.

“It’s bob-a-job week,” Mrs. Dewhurst said. “Forgot they were here, to be honest. Did it take you girls long?”

“Yes. It took forever,” they said in a flat sing-song. “And ever. And ever.”

Rae and Finn stared at each other, wondering for the first time if this was where they were going to die. But, no. Mrs. Dewhurst shoved a pound coin into each girl’s hand and said, “Well, you did a good job. Off you pop, then.” The little girls walked out of the cupboard, and into the hall, pausing to look back at Finn and Rae, who both shivered, before pacing down the stairs and out the front door.

“That was fuckin’ weird,” Finn whispered to Rae, who could only nod, as she was left speechless for a moment.

After inspecting the bathroom and appliances, Rae and Finn found themselves sitting on the sofa, grasping each other’s hands tightly. They were nervous they were going to be seen through, that they weren’t going to get the place. And a little scared of running into those girls on the way back to the tube station.

Marsha settled into the armchair across the room, and asked, “So, what do you both do for a living?”

Simultaneously, Rae said “Journalist” as Finn said “Graphic Artist.” Then they looked at each other, sheepishly, and after pausing for the other to talk, spoke at the same time again to amend their statements, “Well …” “Writer” “Musician.”

Marsha just stared at them, unimpressed. “Lovely. Are you working?”

“What?” Finn asked too quickly.

“Working. Earning money. CASH.” Marsha got down to cases right away.

Rae and Finn nodded emphatically, “Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes.”

“Of course!” Rae said, though she hadn’t had a job in three months and was slightly worried her benefits would run out. But she could always ask her mum for a loan to get this place, as long as she promised she’d look for work.

“Absolutely!” Finn said, though his hours had been cut recently. Maybe he could ask Bilbo about doing odd jobs for extra cash.

“Yeah, we’re so busy! We just don’t stop!” Rae said, looking at Finn to confirm, and he nodded, “Yeah, we’re always on the go, just … go go go.”

Marsha checked something off her list.

“How long have you two been together?” she asked.

_This is it_ , they thought. If they made this sound convincing, they were sure they flat would be theirs. So, they both drew in a long breath and smiled, rolling their eyes a bit, like it had been such a long time. At the exact same moment, they drawled, “Five years, three months, eight days.” Then, as they each shook their heads, as if to say, “Isn’t life funny?” they knocked their skulls together on accident.

“Ow!” As they each rubbed their temples, they looked up to see Marsha, mulling over their application. She took a deep breath, held it, and then said, “Welllll …”

Rae was sure they could hear her heartbeat in Stamford.

“ … you can move in when you’re ready.” Marsha smiled, looking at their hands, still clasped in a clammy embrace.

“Really?” Finn asked, voice sliding up the scale.

Rae echoed him. “Are you sure?” she asked, reaching into her bag for the strip of photos. Finn swatted her hand lightly. “‘Course she’s sure, silly.” He gave her a significant look to shut the fuck up.

“Yep!” Marsha confirmed. “I’ve got a good feeling about you two. Bring your two-week deposit with you tomorrow and I’ll give you the keys to the place, yeah?”

All they could do was nod disbelievingly.

It was theirs.

* * * * *

Out on the street, they turned back, still holding hands, (at this point they barely even noticed) to wave at Marsha in the window. Then, they rounded the corner and slowed down, looked at each other, and started laughing hysterically. Finn reached over and hugged Rae, and she hugged him back.

Rae pulled away a second later. “I can’t believe it! We got it!”

“I know; I was really worried there for a minute!” Finn pulled the knit cap off his head and fanned himself with it. He almost grabbed her hand again, but remembered just in time that they weren’t really a couple and Marsha wasn’t around to fool, so he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets instead. “Okay, come on, we’re celebrating down the pub. None of this cuppa bollocks. We need a proper drink.”

“I don’t get my benefits till tomorrow,” Rae lamented, running to catch up with him. “An’ I’m gonna need all of it for the deposit.”

“Drinks’re on me, don’t worry. But you’ve gotta get a job.”

“Oh, you’re starting in on me before we’ve even moved in together?” Rae shook her head sadly.

“I just think the streets will be safer if you’re occupied during the day.” Finn grinned and held the door to the pub open for Rae, whose mouth hung open as she walked in, but she couldn’t find words to actually disagree with him. He pointed to the corner of the pub, “Go grab us that table, will ya? What d’ya want to drink?”

“Guinness!” Rae shouted over her shoulder. Finn smiled as he approached the bar. That was his usual, too.

He came back with two pints filled to the brim and set one in front of Rae, who raised her eyebrow when she saw he’d gotten the same as her. “What? It’s not an uncommon drink,” he said. They raised their glasses, and Rae was about to take a sip, when Finn said, “We should toast.”

“Oh, okay! What we toasting to?”

Finn thought for a long moment. “To … hmmm …”

“To living in sin, without the sin!” Rae chimed in.

He snorted. “Yeah, why not?” They carefully clinked glasses, and each took a sip. Rae leaned back from her pint, sighing in relief. She had a line of foam from the beer on her upper lip, and Finn tried to get her attention. When she finally looked over, he pointed at her face.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Finn said, leaning forward and wiping the foam away with his thumb.

Rae looked down, embarrassed, and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Finn just took another sip, making sure to wipe the back of his hand across him mouth after, and said, “Don’t worry about it. Friends don’t let friends go ‘round looking like knobheads, remember?”

* * *

Rae surveyed the wrecked living room of the squat, last box in her hands. Her eyes flitted over the sea of unconscious bodies lying strewn around the room, on and under every surface, for some sign that anyone was awake enough to hear her say goodbye.

“Goodbye! Bye, everyone! I’m going! See ya ‘round! Well, probably not, since I don’t know most of your names, but … um … I’ll give you a call about bills and stuff—oh, we haven’t got a telephone. Well, anyway. Bye!” She turned to go, not one person having woken up to hear her leave.

She waited on the corner of the street with her accumulated possessions, waiting for Finn to pick her up in his friend’s van. He said she shouldn’t waste money on a taxi when she was so skint, and told her to be ready at one. It was twelve-thirty, but Rae didn’t want to be late. She turned to the mannequin she’d picked up in an alley one drunken night, named her Tatiana, and developed an irrational affection for and said, “Not long now, eh, beautiful?”

* * * * *

Finn was collecting his things from Stacey’s place, Chop’s camouflage van parked out front of her place, Chop standing sentry by his vehicle. Just over two weeks ago, he’d stood where that van was parked shouting up at Stacey: “Why? What did I do? I can change!” and now he was moving in with a relative stranger. He marveled at how life could turn around in the blink of an eye. Stacey came to the door, gingerly carrying his skateboard between her fingers. “Here’s your … thing,” she said, voice dripping with disdain.

Finn grabbed it, “Thanks. See ya ‘round, maybe.” He turned to go, but Stacey called out, “Do you have a phone number at this new place? In case I need to contact you about bills and stuff?”

He swiveled back on his heels. “Oh, um, I don’t … I’m not sure. Rae’s sorting that stuff out.”

Stacey’s face relaxed. “Oh, yeah? What’s he like, then?”

“Who?”

“Ray, your new roommate.”

Finn laughed. “Oh, no, Rae’s the girl I’m moving in with. She’s alright. Well, actually, she’s pretty mint. She—“

Stacey silenced him with one wave of her hand. “Wait, what do you mean? When did you meet her?”

Finn mused, “‘Bout two weeks ago?”

“And you’re moving in with her? Just like that? Some girl you’ve only just met?”

“Yeah, we get on really well, and we both needed a place, and … well, yeah.” Finn didn’t understand how Stacey could have the gall to be upset with him for moving on. When he saw her cross her arms and get that look that meant she was ready to boil over with anger, Finn preempted her. “And you’ve got absolutely no right to be upset! You’re the one that ended this. You’re the one seeing someone else.” He scoffed. “You can’t dangle the carrot of us maybe getting back together, while you’re riding some other … donkey.” He laughed in surprise at his apt metaphor. “I’ve got to move on with my life, Stacey. And if you don’t like it, well … that’s just too bad.”

Finn was feeling great. For once, he felt like he bested Stacey, telling her how he felt, and leaving on a high note. He started to turn and stride away, when he hear her voice waver as she asked, “Do you love her?”

He froze. He didn’t want to look back, but he had to. “What?” he asked, surprised by her question. She repeated it, louder than before. He stuttered, then sighed. There she was, beautiful Stacey, blue eyes watery with tears, and though Rae was often at the back of his mind since he’d met her, he couldn’t honestly say he loved her. That wasn’t what they were to each other, though they were having to pretend for the sake of the flat. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t.” But he realized, he didn’t really love Stacey anymore. The impulse bubbled up within him to try and get her to take him back; the words were there, on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them.

However, Stacey seemed to be content with the fact that he didn’t love Rae. “Okay,” she said, sounding much more chipper, eyes suddenly dry. “See you!” She shut the door in his face, and Finn’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She’d somehow won again.

At the van, he tossed his board in the back and slammed the doors shut so hard that Chop yelled, “Hey! This is a precision vehicle! Take care, mate!” When Finn hopped in the front seat with him, Chop gave his friend a smile, eyes crinkling behind the yellow lenses of his safety glasses. “Where to?”

Finn gave Chop Rae’s old address and settled back into his seat for the short ride, cranking the radio to drown out his dark thoughts.

* * * * *

They’d picked up Rae and her stuff, Chop saluting her while Finn rolled his eyes at the collection of crap she had accumulated. Chop delivered them to their new flat, and after everything was inside, they handed over the two hundred pounds they’d had to beg, borrow, and partially steal (Rae wasn’t proud, but figured she was owed something for being the only one who ever did dishes, ever). In return, Marsha presented them each keys to the front door, their flat, and the garden shed, in case they needed to store anything out there, or presumably, garden.

After a best six-out-of-eleven coin toss, Finn won the big bedroom, Rae finally conceding it and trying to seem like a good sport. The guest room was pretty nice, actually.

They both had boxes and belongings strewn all over the place within an hour of lugging all their possessions inside. Finn offered to run out and get some food and stuff, while Rae stayed behind to wait for the call from BT. She hummed as she puttered around, not really making any progress on unpacking, just sort of shuffling items from room to room, surface to surface.

She took a scarf from around her neck and wrapped it around the neck of her mannequin, one side covering each plastic breast. “Cover yourself up, love! Have you no shame?” She chuckled, and just then, heard a noise, like something had fallen over in Finn’s room. He hadn’t come back yet, had he? He hadn’t heard her talking to Tatiana, had he?

She crept over to his door, which was ajar, and peered around the door frame, whispering his name. “Finn?” No answer. She said it a little louder this time. “Finn??” Nothing. There was a big box in the corner, and Rae was pulled by a powerful curiosity to check it out. She had just started to pry the corner of the box open when she heard the door open and close and Finn call out, “Rae? I’m back! They were out of Tetley, so I got PG Tips. Hope that’s okay!” Rae panicked, tripping as she ran to get out of his room. “Rae?”

Finn must have heard her fall, because he stuck his head in to investigate and found Rae struggling to stand up. “What’re you doing?” he asked in a high voice, surprised to see her in his room.

“Oh, Finn, hi!” She stood up and wiped her hands on her leggings. “I heard a noise, and I was talking to myself, so I didn’t know—and I wasn’t sure if it was you or if someone else had come in, so I was just checking.” As she over explained, she brushed past him walking back out into the kitchen. “Oh, and BT called, we’ve been connected! And I changed the table, did you notice? I moved it by the counter, I thought it made more of a breakfast nook, and then you can draw by the window. You know, natural light and all that. Anyway … BT called, did I say?”

“What were you checking?” Finn asked, glossing over her whirlwind of words.

“Just heard a weird noise.”

“What noise?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I checked. Do you want a cup of tea?”

Finn shrugged a yes.

* * * * *

Eleven cups of tea later …

“So, that was my summer in Poland …” Rae finished. “I’ve been trying to come up with an angle for some essays or a travelogue, but … I dunno. What about you? Done any traveling?”

Finn shook his head. “Nowhere as interesting as Gdansk, that’s for sure. Mainly just seaside holidays as a kid. Furthest I’ve been is the Outer Hebrides to visit my aunt.”

Rae didn’t respond, staring into the middle distance for a moment. “Hey, pickle, you alright?” Finn asked, not sure why he used that pet name again. She just looked shaken, and he wanted her to be okay.

“What? Yeah! The Outer Hebrides always makes me think … I always thought I’d visit them one day, but then …” She swallowed, shaking her head.

Finn wished she’d finish one thought before switching to the next, but she didn’t seem to want to finish either, so he piped up. “They’re not bad, actually! As long as you go in the summer. You should check them out sometime. I could give you my aunt’s number. She’d probably put you up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s a bit lonely up there, I think. Moved there to get some peace and quiet, but too much of a good thing, right?”

Rae laughed and stood up to throw away her teabag. “Y’know, my mum used to make me brew three cups of tea from each bag. No matter how skint I get, I’m only ever making one cup per teabag. It’s not worth it, for some weak amber-colored water.”

Finn snorted. “Yeah. Luckily, my dad held his brews in high esteem. Never had to sacrifice quality over quantity.”

“This bag’s already full!” Rae exclaimed. “Why didn’t we throw all this rubbish away before we moved?”

“Well, to be fair, we only found out we were moving yesterday.”

Rae nodded gravely. “True, true. Oh, Marsha said we have to take the trash out to the bin at the back of the garden.” She picked up the bin bag and started to head to the door.

Finn hopped up and held out his hand. “No, I’ll take it. You made the last round of tea; fair’s fair, right?”

Rae looked surprised, but let Finn take it. “Thanks, mate! D’you want another one?”

He shook his head, “Nah, twelve’s my limit, but thanks.”

Finn bounded down the stairs, and as he headed to the back door, he passed a door that was open. There was a faint blue light from a staticky television flickering into the hall, and Finn couldn’t tell if anyone was in. “Hello?” he called out. “Anyone there?”

There was no answer, so he turned to dump the bin bag out back when he heard a low voice lament, “Are any of us ever really anywhere?”

“Sorry?” Finn asked into the dark. A figure appeared in the doorway, naked, apart from a pair of boots and a cycling helmet. Finn turned around quick. “Ummmm …”

* * * * *

The figure, now clad in a robe, was following Finn into his and Rae’s apartment.

When Rae heard the door open, she shouted, “You took your time, bloody hell! I was just about to send out a search party!”

“Uh, Rae, this is Archie!”

She stuck her head out of her room and said, “Shit, sorry. Hi! Do you rent downstairs?”

Archie swallowed and said, “Do you mean ‘am I gay?’”

“What?”

He amplified. “Do you mean ‘am I gay?’”

“Uh, no, I was wondering if you rented the downstairs flat.”

“Oh, right. Yep, sort of …” Archie looked over his shoulder at the door to the hall, like he was worried someone was listening in.

Finn decided to ask. “ARE you gay?”

Archie looked at him, a little wary. “Hmm?”

“Just … you brought it up. So … are you? Gay?”

Archie mused for a moment. “Yyyyyeah. Well, sort of.”

Finn raised his eyebrows and looked at Rae, who mirrored his surprise and confusion. “Okay, then!” he said. “D’ya wanna cup of tea, glass of wine, or …?”

Archie nodded. “Yeah, can’t stay long.” He sat down and drummed his fingers on the table. Finn and Rae exchanged another bewildered glance, not sure what to make of their new neighbor.

* * * * *

An hour later, and Archie was still there. Rae had told her Poland adventures all over again, and Finn was surprised that he didn’t want to throttle her, but somehow he didn’t mind hearing her stories again. He drew in his sketchbook the whole night, but Rae instead asked Archie, “So, what do you do, Archie?”

“I’m an artist,” he mumbled. Finn started to say he was, too, lifting up his pad of paper, but Rae jumped in to say, “Oh? What kind of thing?”

Archie squeezed his eyes shut, like he was imagining a scene of horror and trying to block it out. “I attempt to convey the whole spectrum of human emotions, the primal ones that have been with us from our earliest history …” He then rattled off a litany of emotions, “Anger … pain … fear … aggression …” His voice faded out and there was a long pause.

Rae tried to process his answer, and clarified her question. “So, watercolors, or … ?”

Just then, they heard a commotion upstairs, feet pounding down the steps, and the door slamming to that the hinges rattled. The next moment, there was a knock at the door.

Rae and Finn looked at Archie, confused. “That was Izzy, Marsha’s daughter. This’ll be Marsha. DON’T ask her if she wants to talk about it.”

Rae got up to open the door and, sure enough, there stood Marsha, smiling sheepishly and holding a bottle of Spanish plonk. “Thought I’d bring you two a housewarming gift,” she explained, waltzing in. She paused when she saw Archie. “Oh, hello, there,” she said in a low voice that made Archie squirm.

* * * * *

Another hour later, Marsha had gotten through the bottle she’d brought and was halfway through a second. Archie, who had said he couldn’t stay long, was still there, almost keeping vigil over Rae and Finn, who were starting to fade. Rae’s head started to droop until Marsha continued her story.

“ … And that’s when I had to say, ‘It’s the dog or me!’ I was tired of waking up to the smell of mange.” She took a big sip of wine. “Anyway, he chose the dog.”

Just then, the phone rang, waking Finn who had drifted off. He sat up, bleary-eyed, and yelp, “Stacey!”

Rae’s eyes grew wide and she looked at Marsha, panicked. Marsha cocked her head to the side and asked, “Stacey? Who’s—“

“—I’m here, don’t worry, Finn!” Rae rubbed Finn’s shoulder, and he looked at her, confused, sleep still clouding his eyes. He’d been dreaming that Stacey was cutting holes in all his clothes. He knew Rae wasn’t Stacey, and her hand was very comforting in the moment.

“It’s his pet name for me,” Rae explained.

“Where’d that come from, then?” Marsha asked.

“My ex-girlfriend,” Finn said bitterly.

The phone was still ringing, so Rae jumped up to answer it. “Hello?”

“It’s me, Richard!”

“Oh. Hello.” Rae couldn’t muster the smallest amount of enthusiasm. It felt like a wet blanket had been thrown over the evening. She wondered how he’d gotten her number already. 

“I got your new number from your mum! How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know. Fine, good.”

“What’s the flat like?”

“Um, very nice?”

“Cool.” Rae heard Richard take a breath. Here it was, the real reason for his call. “Listen, Rae, I’ve been thinking, wondering about this Finn guy. You don’t really know—“

“Yes, absolutely fine!” Rae cut him off, then whispered. “Listen, Richard, I can’t really talk, we’ve got some people here. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, okay, sure …” Then, in a terrible Southern accent: “I love you, Daisy Duke!”

Rae rolled her eyes at the nickname. She wished she’d never told him her middle name. That, coupled with the last name “Earl” led to this ridiculousness. He even insisted she call him Boss Hog. Which was weird, since he was the villain, really. When she didn’t reply, he said it again.

Rae sighed and mumbled, “I love you, too, Boss Hog.”

“I can’t HEAR you!”

“I love you, too, Boss Hog!” Rae could practically feel three pairs of eyes on her as she hung up the phone. She turned around and sat down gingerly. No one said anything. Finally, Rae shrugged and said, “That was, um, Boss Hog.”

Finn shot her a look, which she shot right back. He was the one yelling his ex-girlfriend’s name in his sleep. They’d both have to do better, if they were going to keep up this charade.

Archie narrowed his eyes and pointed at them both. “How long have you two been together?”

They looked at each other, each took a breath and said in unison, “Five years, three months, eight days.”

Marsha took a drag from her cigarette and said, “Wait a minute, that’s what you said yesterday.”

Now both she and Archie were staring at them accusingly. Rae tried not to show the fear she felt at being caught out in a lie. She glanced over at Finn, wishing she was telepathic just for a moment. Finn just sat there with his mouth open. Damn. Shit. Fuck.

But, then, Finn sat up a bit and said, “Uh, Rae and me have got two anniversaries, haven’t we?” He nodded at her to play along.

“Yeah, okay!” Rae said, a little too cheerily.

Marsha nodded at Finn to go on. “Oh! Um, Rae dates it from the first time we kissed, but I count it from the first time we were … physically intimate.”

“Which one is it today?” Archie asked. Rae couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested or stirring the pot. She looked over at Finn to try and lock in the right answer. After a beat, she said, “Mine,” at the same time Finn said, “Rae’s.” They each exhaled, happy they’d been on the same page.

Another moment passed, and just when they felt they’d gotten away with it, Archie asked, “So … you had sex before you ever kissed?”

Their collective thought of “SHIT” could almost be heard out loud, but they both nodded, committed to the lie. “Yeah.”

Archie looked thoughtful for a moment, but Marsha simply took another swig from her wineglass and sang out, “Happy Anniversary!”

* * * * * 

When Marsha and Archie of them had stumbled to the respective floors, and after Rae and Finn fumbled through their first awkward good night ritual of “who should use the loo first?”, Rae dug out the whiteboard she’d kept on her dorm room door in uni and blu-tacked it to the wall. She found a nearly-dead dry erase marker and wrote 5-3-9 on it. After glancing at the clock radio on her bedside table, she saw that it was well past midnight, and wiped away the 9 and wrote in 10. 


	4. Start As We Mean To Go On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a filler chapter, but I’m trying to establish the characters a little more. We’ll eventually get some more backstory, but this has some general impressions of each other. 
> 
> I’ve also thrown in a couple of references to things I like, for my own amusement. If you get them, great. If not, hopefully they aren’t too jarring within the story.
> 
> I’m excited for Chapter 5, which is the Housewarming Party!

Rae woke up, groggy and a little hungover, and stared at her clock. The block red numbers silently shouted 9:37 at her. She would have been more hungover if Marsha hadn’t put away as much as she had. And, if she were more hungover, maybe she wouldn’t be remembering some of the things they talked about the night before. She shook her head, trying to forget. Oof, that call from Richard. Why was she dating him, again?

What she wanted most of all was to roll over and get another two hours, but instead her stomach growled and her bladder screamed at her to empty it. 

“Stupid corporeal form,” she muttered. “Why can’t I just be a floating brain?”

She pulled a tattered kimono she’d got at a jumble sale on over her t-shirt and sweatpants. Before she ventured out of her room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Oh, god, was she going to have to wear a bra all the time? She hadn’t thought about that, and it didn’t seem fair that she had to get fully dressed just to use the loo. She peeked her head out to see if Finn was up and about. No sign of him, so she took a chance, pulled her thin robe around her more closely, and tiptoed to the bathroom. After completing the most urgent task, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, and took a minute to inspect her face in the mirror. She discovered a spot on her chin and sighed. Whatever. She wasn’t trying to impress Finn, anyway. As she just pointed out to herself, she already had a boyfriend. She and Finn were just roommates. 

She didn’t check before walking out of the bathroom, and was startled to find Finn sitting at the kitchen table, in a t-shirt so worn it was practically tissue at this point and the boxer briefs she’d had to memorize for her flat-getting exam, eating a bowl of cereal. “Mornin’,” he mumbled through a mouthful of Cocoa Pops. 

Rae folded her arms defensively over her chest and said, “Hi, yeah.” She started to slink back into her room when Finn asked, “How’d you sleep?”

She paused. “Um, pretty good, yeah. Kind of wish I could’ve slept in a bit more, but nature called.”

Finn laughed and said, “Are you goin’ back to bed, then?”

Rae was going to put a bra on. “Um, no, I just …”

“Well, have a seat. Y’want some cereal?” Finn actually stood up to get her a bowl and spoon. He closed the silverware drawer with his hip as he opened the door to fridge with one swift motion. He grabbed the milk jug and put everything in front of her, even picked up the cereal box as if to pour it for her. 

Rae took it out of his hand. “I’ll take it from here. But, y’know, thanks.” Finn nodded and resumed his own breakfast, turning a page in the comic he was reading.

She took the opportunity to take a good look at her new roommate. He normally wore such baggy layers that it was hard to tell what shape he was underneath. He was actually quite fit. His hair, which was usually shoved under a knit cap, was bleached blonde and had about an inch of his natural brown roots. It was standing up in clumps all over his head. His eyes were a warm brown and looked amused as he read his comic. Freckles were sprinkled over his nose and forehead. 

“Will ya stop starin’ at me?” Finn said, not moving his eyes from the page. “It freaks me out.”

Rae shook her head and brought a spoonful of cereal to her mouth.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, feeling caught out and staring at her bowl instead. She felt bad for accidentally ogling him. “Just spaced out for a second. Um, how’d you sleep? I’m kind of terrible about reciprocating pleasantries.”

“‘Reciprocating pleasantries’? Bloody hell.” Finn shook his head with a grin. “I tossed and turned a bit. Had some weird dreams. Guess it was being in a new place, all the excitement. And the eleven mugs of tea probably didn’t help.”

Rae bugged her eyes out, and if her mouth weren’t full of cereal, she would have immediately apologized. Instead she did this weird little dance of flapping her hand while she tried to swallow her food.

* * * * * 

Finn looked up from his comic and let out a short laugh. “No worries, I was only joking.” But Rae was already looking down. He felt bad that he made her feel self-conscious. It was his turn to inspect her. Her long dark hair hung over her shoulders, and her face was flushed (probably from mild embarrassment). His eyes drifted down past the ends of her hair and he found himself looking at her chest, which was quite … well he probably shouldn’t think what it was quite, not with her in the room, anyway. He was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra, though the only unrestrained breasts he had working knowledge of were Stacey’s, and Stace wasn’t exactly well-endowed. He whipped his eyes back up to her face to make sure she hadn’t caught him looking. It wasn’t like he’d meant to. Detecting the movement, she looked up at him with her clear hazel eyes. He gave her a small smile, trying to let her know he really was only joking. She sighed and smiled back, but then looked around the flat.

“We didn’t get much unpacking done last night, did we?”

Finn glanced around. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Do you work today?”

“Nope, just have to do something for the shop, but I can do that here.” 

“Okay, well maybe after I get some stuff done this morning, we can take a crack at tidying? Start as we mean to go on, that sort of thing?”

Finn shrugged and nodded. He was just glad he didn’t have to take his shoes off every time he came in the door. Stacey was a little particular. Clutter everywhere, but she mopped the floors twice a week. He didn’t mind a bit of dirt, but he couldn’t stand piles of stuff lying around. Now that he’d broken up with Stacey and had stayed with Chop and now Rae, he was learning that everyone was weird. Everyone had stuff, but it was all about finding people whose stuff and weirdness meshed with your own. Compatible quirks, as it were. 

Just as he was musing on these subjects, Rae stood up and held her hand out. He looked up at her, unsure what she wanted from him.

“Are you done? I’ll rinse your bowl.” Finn looked down and saw that the few bits of cereal left were too bloated with milk to bother with. He took a final sip of the sugary mix and handed it to her. “Can’t stand stacks of dirty dishes,” she said as she ran the tap. 

Finn swallowed a grin as he turned a page in his comic.

* * * * *

Rae had been staring at the blank page in her typewriter for what seemed like an hour, but when she looked at the clock, only ten minutes had passed. Surely she must have fallen into a wormhole that distorted time and stretched it out; there wasn’t any other logical explanation. She sighed and adjusted her lensless glasses on the bridge of her nose. Finn was sitting in the armchair that she’d moved near the window, and he was completely engrossed in the drawing he was working on. She envied him. He didn’t just talk about doing creative work; he just got down to it. 

Rae decided to just type some nonsense to get her juices flowing. But what? She heard the bastard clock ticking like it was wired to a tannoy. TICK-TOCK, she typed. TICK-TOCK. TICK-TOCK WENT THE FUCKING CLOCK. She sighed. Rhyming wasn’t working. She started to think of random words, typing each one as it came to her:  _rectangle, America, megaphone, Monday … arsehole_.

Then—nothing.  _Apparently I only know five words?_  she thought bitterly. She looked back up at the clock. Two minutes??? She let out a mock sob and buried her head in her folded arms on top of the bulky gray typewriter. 

Finn’s voice broke the silence. “Y’alright?”

Rae raised her head and bit her lip. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve just had this writer’s block for …” she trailed off, not able to recall the last time she’d finished a piece of writing to her satisfaction. Well, one that she hadn’t been assigned by a lecturer, that is. “ …  awhile.”

She looked around at the boxes that were everywhere and said, “Maybe if we tidy up in here, I’ll be able to concentrate.”

Finn nodded. “I agree, but a lot of this stuff is yours. I put most of my stuff away already.” 

_When’d he have time to do that?_  Her face must have looked skeptical, because Finn gestured to his room, as if to say, “Take a look.” Rae stood up and pushed his door open. It was … immaculate. The surfaces fairly gleamed. He’d even hung a Buffy poster over his bed with blu-tac. Rae turned around and sighed. “Well, I’m not talking about your room, I’m talking about this room. This is a shared area. You have stuff out here, too.” To illustrate, she picked up an Aquaman action figure from a box and raised an eyebrow.

Finn sighed and flipped his sketchbook closed. “Okay, fair enough.”

Rae skipped back to her typewriter, pulling out the sheet that had a bunch of rubbish on it, balling up and tossing it in the bin. “I know, before we get started, I’ll make a rota! I mean, we want to make this living arrangement as uncomplicated as possible, right? Domestic equilibrium! We don’t know each other that well yet, and this way we’ll learn what each of us expects.”

Finn sighed more deeply. “Sure, I guess.”

Rae started typing “ROTA” at the top of a new sheet of paper. Rae didn’t mind doing dishes, and Finn admitted to quite enjoying hoovering. They agreed to take it in turns to clean the bathroom and take the rubbish out. “And, of course, we’ll do our own laundry,” Rae said. Not that she ever expected him to offer, but she did have a not-so-minor horror of people finding out what sizes she wore. She typically cut out labels, but some were printed right on the fabric. And there was something about holding a garment in your hands, before the person filled it up, it could look bigger than reality. 

Finn nodded, “‘Course! I saw there was a launderette two streets over. We could go together, maybe. Y’know, if we don’t drive each other mad.”

Rae wasn’t so sure about that, but just said, “Yeah, maybe.”

Satisfied that the main tasks were allocated, Rae tacked the sheet to the fridge with a carrot magnet that was included with the furnishings. “Okay, now, let’s tackle this lot.”

It ended up being like Rae’s favorite children’s book, one of a set of Little Golden Books that her mum’s friend had sent over from America as a baby gift. This one was called  _The Backwards Picnic_  and Rae had read it ragged. The point of the book was basically, that if you pitch in and help each other, unpleasant jobs take half the time and then you can go and have fun. But, the thing was, they’d actually kind of had fun unpacking and putting things away. After an hour, pretty much everything was put away, except a couple of stacks of books that Rae didn’t have room for on the shelves in her room.

The pair stood back to admire their handiwork. 

“It’ll never look this good again,” Rae said.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s all downhill from here,” Finn agreed.

* * * * *

They laughed. Rae peeled off the ridiculous yellow rubber gloves she’d worn to wash up some things that had dust on them from the boxes they’d been moved in. She tossed them in the sink and then flopped herself on the beanbag. “Hutch up,” Finn said, draping himself next to her, leaning against the beanbag. “Oi,” she laughed. 

“I could use a fag,” Finn sighed. 

“Do you need one after every exerted effort?” Rae joked and Finn raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure she was just joke-flirting, so he batted back with, “Oh, yeah … I need at least half a pack after I descale the kettle.”

They laughed again, and Finn leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. Rae shifted next to him, her hair brushing against the exposed skin below the sleeve of his t-shirt. It felt soft, like feathers. He knew he couldn’t compare her hair to his own dehydrated bleached blonde thatch, but he noted how Rae just let her hair hang down her back and over her shoulders. Stacey had always had hers pulled back in a ponytail or bun, bangs meticulously sculpted into the fashion of the day. Her hair told the world that she was in control and meant business. Finn had never really liked that about Stacey. In fact, now when he thought about Stacey, he tried to list the things he had liked about her, but found it harder and harder to come up with her good qualities. Surely she must have some, or he wouldn’t have spent so many years with her, right? He shook his head and sat up.

“Back to work, I think,” he said, eager to occupy his mind with something besides Stacey sodding Stringfellow. Rae sat up, looking sad, “Oh, really? Yeah, I s’pose you’re right.” Finn picked up his sketchbook and opened it to the sketch of Wolverine he was doing for the shop.

He looked up and saw Rae drop into her seat behind the typewriter and look mournfully at the clock before winding a sheet of paper into the the roller. He focused his attention back on his drawing, waiting for the typing to begin, but it never did. 

“What are you working on, Finn?”

“Oh, I’m just doing a poster for work. We’re having a sale on X-Men comics and Bilbo wanted a poster of Wolverine slashing prices with his adamantium claws. Then, I’m going to do a—“

She cut him off with an annoyed “Alright, alright! Cool,” and leant forward, placing her elbow on the table and propping her chin up on her palm. She sighed through her nose and looked up at the clock again, groaning when she saw the time.

Finn glanced back to his sketch book aware that he was staring, after he’d told her to knock it off only a few hours earlier.

Just as he had gotten back into the groove with his drawing, Rae shouted, “YES!” Finn’s hand slipped and he smudged half of Wolverine’s face. He looked up, perplexed and annoyed.

“We should have a party! A housewarming party!”

“Why?”

“Just … because! Because we’ve got to christen this place as the new hub of North London, yeah?” She struck a pose, like she was trying to sell him a new car. 

“Alright, I s’pose. When were you thinking?”

“We could have it tonight!” Rae said excitedly.

Finn looked at her askance. “On a Thursday?”

Rae thought for a moment. “Okay, okay, tomorrow night, then!”

Finn sighed. She seemed to want a distraction, and if he didn’t allow her this one, he was pretty sure she’d bug him until he said yes. “Fine, alright. But your room’s the coat room.”

“Excellent! We can invite Brian! And Marsha! And I can invite Chl—Twist!”

“Marsha? Our landlady?”

“Well, why not? She seems a little lonely and she’s a bit of a laugh. Well, we’ll fill in the guest list and if there’s room, we’ll add her then, how’s that?”

Finn shrugged. He honestly didn’t care, just thought it was a little strange. But then, it was strange to throw a housewarming the day after you move in, just to avoid work. However, when he looked up, he saw that Rae was truly enthusiastic about this project, her face was lit up as she started typing names. Somehow, he couldn’t be annoyed when he saw that she was so sincere.

“Who’d you want to invite, Finn?”

“Oh, um, I dunno. Chop, I guess. I could see if Bilbo’s available, and maybe Danny-Two-Tyres is free, but I wouldn’t bet on it. On a Friday night, he can usually be found throwing shapes at an illegal rave. Hmmm, I think the Tripods convention in Swindon will mean most of my mates are otherwise occupied, though.”

“Oh, were you planning to go?” Rae asked, looking worried that she had horned in on his agenda.

“Nah.” He  _had_  been thinking about it, but it only would have been for something to do, not because he really liked the program. He was more of a Star Wars fan, despite the recent and tragic prequels. After college, he’d started reading comic books and sci-fi stuff, not exclusively, but in school he’d been pegged as a fit lad, and there didn’t seem to be a place for him among the geek community. So, he developed his tastes outside of a nerd incubator. He was freelance, a geek-at-large, as it were, even though few people suspected him of it. But the prospect of seeing the kind of party Rae would throw was kind of intriguing. 

She gave him a skeptical look, so he responded, “ _The Tripods_  isn’t a patch on  _Buffy_ ; I’d only have gone for something to do.” Rae seemed to accept this and smiled as she went back to her typewriter.

* * * * *

Rae might not have admitted that the idea for the party had started as a distraction, but now she would have defended it to anyone. 

She was realizing she didn’t have that many friends in London, even after living here for a year. Chloe/Twist was a friend from home, and she couldn’t even remember the names of anyone she’d shared that squat with. One of the guys might have been called Tony? She shrugged to herself and decided to just throw the best party she could, a small gathering could be cool. With her and Finn and Archie, it was already like the beginnings of an artist colony. They could talk about methods and theories, be esoteric while drinking cheap wine and eating hors d'oeuvres.

That reminded her: the menu!

“Okay, we need to have something to eat, but obviously it has to be cheap.”

Finn nodded as he continued his drawing, to let her know he was still listening, but didn’t offer any suggestions.

“Of course! Crudités and dip! I can make hummus and … some other dips.”

Finn made a face, which Rae clocked. “Oi, what?”

“Just … dips? Can’t we make some space cakes and shit?”

“I don’t have anything to make them … spacey! They’d just be cakes. And then we’d have a tea party on our hands.”

“I’ll lend you some of my stash.” Now it was Rae’s turn to make a face back at Finn. “Okay, GIVE,” he conceded.

“Fine, okay, I’ll make those, but we’re still having veg—CRUDITÉS and at least hummus. Ooh, I can decorate some bowls with tinfoil … no! I can decorate the whole flat with tinfoil! It’ll be like something out of a Warhol film! I can make a glitter ball!” She hoisted her typewriter off the table and took it into her room. Finn went back to his drawing, taking a minute to erase the smudges. Just as he was about to get the ink out, he heard an eerie whisper, “If we have it, they will come …” He looked up to see Rae sitting on the other end of the sofa, blinking innocently, evidently pleased at her film reference. 

Finn just sighed and said, “I already said yes!” When she walked into her bedroom again on a party-related errand, the smile he’d been holding in broke across his face. 


	5. It's a Land Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve started to change the events with this one. Laying some different pathways … hope those who are major Spaced fans won’t mind so much. Writing parties is kind of hard, so if anything doesn’t make sense, let me know. There’s a lot of things going on under the surface and I don’t want to spell everything out, but, yeah.

Rae ordered Finn to go downstairs and invite Archie to the party, while she went upstairs to invite Marsha, and ask if Izzy wanted to come, too.

“When we’re done, we’ll go to the shop for party supplies, yeah?”

Finn shrugged. He trudged down the steps to Archie’s flat and knocked on the door. Archie called out “Who is it?” which was muffled behind the door and several canvases.

Finn scoffed and answered, “Father Christmas!” 

In a flash, Archie had yanked the door open, eyes bright with anticipation. Seeing Finn’s slumped form leaning against his doorframe, he frowned and sighed. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, who’d ya—you didn’t really think—“

“What do you want, Finn? I’m in the middle of a triptych, imagining what soldiers ate during three great battles. I’m calling it ‘Your Toast’.”

Finn cleared his throat and tried to swallow his laughter. “Sounds intense, mate. Listen, Rae and me are having a little get together tomorrow night, sort of a housewarming party. She wanted me to ask if you were free.”

Archie adjusted his glasses and tied the belt of his silk-look robe a little tighter. “Don’t usually go to parties.” He wandered back into his apartment, leaving the door open, so Finn followed. The place was dark and dusty, and canvases thick with paint were leaned against every surface.

“There might be …” Finn started to say ‘girls’, as that would lure most of his friends to a party, but remembered that Archie had said he was ‘sort of’ gay, so ended up lamely offering, “ … people there. Cool people, I mean. Rae’s invited a few mates, and I’ve got my pal Chop coming along.” 

“What’s a chop?” Archie asked. 

“He’s … well, we don’t talk about why he’s called Chop. His real name’s Arnold, but he doesn’t like that.”

“Oh. Well, maybe.” Archie picked up his paint brush to continue work on his current masterpiece.

“If you’re up for it. No worries.” Finn paused just outside Archie’s door. “Rae’s makin’ some space cakes, in case that’s a deciding factor.”

Archie raised an interested eyebrow and nodded vaguely. “Yeah, maybe …” He paused, then asked, “Will Marsha be there?”

“I dunno. Rae’s just gone up to ask her.” Archie nodded gravely, eyes darting around as he thought. Finn couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the deal with you two, anyway?”

Archie whipped around to face Finn. “You know about the deal?”

“What?” 

“Never mind.”

“Okay, well, maybe we’ll see ya later, then,” Finn backed out of Archie’s flat and strode back up the stairs, two at a time. He nearly ran into Rae, who was coming down from Marsha’s flat upstairs.

“Well, how’d ya get on? Do you think he’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’d say he’ll probably make an appearance.” Finn held the door open for Rae and followed her into their place. “How about Marsha? Are she and Izzy going to come and seethe at each other from opposite corners?”

Rae grinned. “Marsha’s definitely in. She said Izzy never commits to plans, but if the mood takes her she might grace us with her presence before she heads out to an all-night disco.”

“Fair enough. So, what’s the body count?”

Rae looked up and started counting on her fingers. “You and me, of course.” Finn nodded. That much was obvious. “Marsha and Archie. Sorry, probably Archie. Maybe Izzy. Definitely Twist. And I mentioned it to the paperboy when I went out to get the mail.”

Finn sighed. “Let the good times roll, eh?”

“Well, maybe I can dig up a few other people.” Rae shrugged her leather jacket on. Finn noticed it instantly made whatever she was wearing look ten times cooler. He wished he owned such a magical garment. “You should tell your mates that the Thunderbirds or whatever can wait another year.”

“It’s the Tripods, and they wouldn’t listen. They are fans with terminal intensity. You can’t tell them the thing they like isn’t worth taking up an entire weekend at a leisure center in Swindon; they’ll never admit it. Chop’s coming, though.”

“Okay, so, we’ll plan for 8-10 people.” She grabbed her rucksack, opened the door, and paused to look back at Finn. “Well, are you coming or not?”

“Oh, right!” Finn crammed his knit cap over his hair and pulled on his drab coat. 

Five minutes later, they were at the store. Finn held the hand basket while Rae flung items into it. “Carrots, celery … should we get a courgette? No, too much and too fancy.” 

Finn looked in the basket at the cans of garbanzo beans and various dips and shook his head. At least she’d bought some crisps. “Don’t forget about the space cake,” he mumbled, looking around to make sure no one else heard him.

“Oh, right! We’ve already got milk and eggs in the basket, and we’ve got sugar, flour, salt, and oil at home—um, the flat—right? I guess I just need baking powder, baking soda, and cocoa.”

“Wait, you’re  _actually_  making a cake? Like, from scratch?” Finn had thought she would buy a mix. But, then, his dad never baked. Maybe other people did this all the time. If it was something a woman might do, Finn only had Stacey and his nan in his memories, and he didn’t think they were a typical cross-section of the female public. Stacey wouldn’t eat anything with refined sugar, and his nan’s idea of baking was arranging store-bought biscuits on a tray.

“Well, yeah. I mean, is that okay? Do you not like chocolate cake? I can make another kind.”

“That’s not—yeah, no. Chocolate is great.” Finn shifted the basket from his right hand to his left and nervously adjusted his cap.

“And, anyway, I’m relying on you for the special ingredient,” Rae raised her eyebrows a couple of times, significantly. Finn momentarily forgot what she was on about and nearly lost his grip on the basket. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I’ve got plenty. Shouldn’t need to call my mate for more.”

“Okay, then, I think we’ve got what we’ll need. Just need to hope everyone brings a bottle, ‘cause I don’t have the dosh for booze.” Finn nodded, and made a mental note to stop by the off-license for something. 

Rae put two rolls of Bacofoil in the basket as they headed to the checkout. Finn just shook his head.

* * * * *

The next day, the apartment looked like a paranoid schizophrenic’s safe house, there was that much tinfoil everywhere. Rae had covered the light with it, so it looked like a five-year-old’s reckoning of a glitter ball. She had just finished covering the dips with foil, and ceremoniously dusted off her hands. 

Finn was on the phone with Chop. “Yeah, Chop, that’s fine. We don’t need security. It’s goin’ to be a very small gathering… . Well, just bring one, okay? … Hmm, the beretta? No, the glock 17! Yeah. Yeah, see you later.” Finn hung up the phone and shrugged at Rae.

“Why’s Chop bringing a gun?”

“He … it’s like a Linus blanket. He gets to think it’s security for us, but it’s really security for him. It’ll be unloaded.”

“Okay, then. Well, I’m finally finished. Would’ve been done ages ago if I hadn’t had to go up and borrow some sugar from Marsha. I could’ve sworn we had some. Anyway, she talked my bloody ear off. Did you know her ex-husband drummed for Status Quo?”

Finn looked up from his drawing. “Oh, really? That’s me dad’s favorite band. Weird. I was wondering why you were up there so long. You didn’t give the game away, right?”

“What about us not being a professional couple? No. I don’t think she suspects anything.”

“So, um, do we still have to hold hands in the corridor?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Rae said, trying not to sound disappointed.

Finn replied, “I didn’t say that.” She wasn’t sure if there was a verbal wink in his tone, so she decided to just carry on as if there was. 

“We could probably cut down on the fake sex noises.”

“Shame.” Okay, that seemed like a wink, Rae decided. Finn continued, “Still, if we’ve been together for five years, we wouldn’t be at it every night, anyway.”

“Wouldn’t we?” Rae actually winked this time, and she could swear that Finn’s face went a little pink.

“Anyway, I’ve gotta get dressed for the party. Choose from my vast wardrobe of flattering outfits.” She rolled her eyes, but Finn didn’t take the bait. 

Just then the phone rang. “I’ll get it!” Finn shouted. And a moment later, “Oh, hang on, she’s just getting her clothes on. Rae’s it’s your boyfriend!”

Rae flew around the corner, shushing Finn, who just smirked into his comic book.

“Hi, Richard.”

“Hey, Double D.” God, she hated that nickname of a nickname. She rolled her eyes as he continued. “Um, what did he mean by that?”

“By what?”

“You getting your clothes on?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re having a flat-warming, and I was just trying to pick an outfit. What’s up?”

“Just wondering how it’s going? Haven’t talked to you much lately and I just—“

Finn started making fake sex noises from behind his comic, groaning rhythmically. 

“What’s that, Rae? Is that … what’s going on?”

Rae shushed Finn, put her hand over the mouthpiece, and hissed, “Not now, you pillock!”

Finn let out one last groan and flopped on the sofa. Rae turned to talk conspiratorially into the phone. “That was the television; I’ve told Finn to turn it down. Listen, can I call you back later? Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah, okay.” Richard started to say “I love you, Daisy Duke!” but Rae hung up before he could finish.

She spun around to glare at Finn. “What was  _that_  about, you thundering idiot?”

Finn blinked innocently. “I was just trying to make up for yelling about your boyfriend. You know, the walls have ears.” He pointed up in the direction of Marsha’s apartment. 

“That’s a floor, and I’m sure she doesn’t have a glass to it, listening in. Just be a little more careful, alright? I like this place and I don’t want to get kicked out.”

Finn nodded in agreement. 

* * * * *

Two hours later, and the party consisted of Finn and Archie sitting on the couch. Rae came out in a low cut black top with a bunch of plastic necklaces and a sparkly gold jacket. 

Finn swallowed his crisp and started to say she looked nice, when Rae cut him off to ask, “Too much? It is, isn’t it? I’ll go change.”

“No, just … you look gine. I mean, freight. Sorry, GREAT. You look …” Christ. He hadn’t even had a space cake yet. 

Archie nodded in agreement. “You do; you look nice.” He glanced around the flat. “I like the foil. It’s like a tribute to Christo, the artist.”

Finn scoffed. “More like a waste of Baco, the foil.” Just then, there were three short, sharp knocks on the door. Finn leapt up to answer it, feeling thoroughly awkward and happy for something to do. As he swung the door open, he saw Chop standing at attention, hands behind his back. He nodded at Finn, “Evening, mate.” 

“C’mon in, then!” Finn turned around and introduced Chop. “Everyone, well, Rae and Archie … this is my best friend, Chop.”

“Chop, hello! I’m Rae, nice to meet you.” She held her hand out for Chop to shake, but he saluted her instead and handed her a large metal object. “Oh, you’ve brought something!”

“Yeah, it’s a land mine.”

“Okay! I’ll just put that somewhere safe, then.” Finn caught Rae’s curious look and he just shrugged. That was Chop for you. 

Chop had turned to Archie and said, “Hi, I’m Sgt. A. Peters, TA. Longest way up, shortest way down. You’re … Archie?” Archie nodded nervously.

“Archie’s an artist,” Rae piped up. She placed a hand on her chest, “Writer.” Then she gestured to Chop, who said, “Uhh, Chop?”

Archie nodded solemnly. “We put too many labels on ourselves. It’s better to just be who you are.” 

Chop gave Archie a strange look, and agreed. “Yeah, totally.”

The front door buzzed, and this time Rae jumped to answer it. 

Finn sidled over to Chop. “How’d ya get in without us buzzing you up?”

Chop grinned, “I have my ways.”

Rae ushered in her friend, who was almost as tall as her, slim, and wearing a top and skirt that were at odds with each other, trying to exude “fashion.” 

“Ooh, Rae, showing off some cleavage–daring! Y’know, big’s in this season. Good for you!” Finn narrowed his eyes at her like she was a stick insect in his Twiglets. Rae shook her head and put her hands out to display her friend.

“Everyone, this is Chl—“ Twist shot her a look. “Sorry, this is Twist. She’s in fashion.”

“Hi!”

No one said anything, so Rae asked Twist if she wanted a drink. “Well, I really shouldn’t, because of the yeast, but go ahead. I’ll be naughty and have a spritzer.” 

Rae nodded like she knew what that meant, and then poured a glass half with red wine and half with Sprite.

“Is there somewhere I can hang my wrap?” 

Finn was engrossed in a comic and mumbled, “Rae’s room is the coat room.”

Twist had already headed into the small bedroom to deposit her garment, and Archie asked, “So, you two have got separate rooms?”

Finn’s brain let loose with a stream of expletives, but out loud, both he and Rae stumbled over each other to explain. “No, well …” “It’s just that …” “I snore!” “Yeah, Rae snores! And I—sweat!” “Yeah, he’s like a fuckin’ furnace, I can’t …” “We’re still—“ “We’re not really … a couple.” Finn’s eyes went wide at Rae’s confession.

“Don’t say anything, please,” Rae pleaded. 

“Yeah, we lied a bit, to get the flat, but we really like it here, so whatever you do, please don’t tell—“

“Marsha! Hi!” Rae yelled he greeting to their landlady, who appeared like a phantom in the open doorway. Finn put his arm around Rae and squeezed her to his side.

Everyone stared at her in shock and horror for a second.

“Hello … it’s me. The weirdo from upstairs!”

Rae and Finn shook their heads, “What? No.”

“Am I late?”

They continued shaking their heads. 

“Where should I put my coat?” Finn froze in fear and could felt Rae stiffen under his arm. 

Archie leapt off the sofa, grabbing the black velvet jacket that was draped over Marsha’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it in Finn and Rae’s room!” He tripped over Chop’s foot as he did, and Chop had to put his gun down to help him up. 

“Y’alright, mate?” He gripped Archie’s forearm and shoulder, lifting him up.

Archie nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Twist stepped over Archie as she came out of Rae’s room. “Oh, hello!” she said to Marsha. 

“Twist, this is Marsha, our landlady. Twist is in fashion.”

“Hi!” Twist chirped as Marsha droned, “Hellooo.”

Twist gave Marsha a glance. “Interesting outfit.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d make an effort.” She held her arms up to show off her crocheted black Morticia Addams dress, flicking cigarette ash on the floor in the process. 

“Hmmm, yeah. I can really see what you tried to do.”

Rae started to laugh loudly, to diffuse the awkwardness, and Finn joined in. 

When no one else did, and their laughter faded, the silence was deafening. How could they, of all people, have neglected the music? Finn glanced at Rae and raised his eyebrow a fraction of an inch, and she nodded at him. He went over to the stereo and grabbed blindly at a tape and stuck it in the player. He pressed play and rejoined Rae, putting his arm around her again. Weird laser gun sounds started up and then Spaceman blasted out of the speakers. Rae gave Finn a dirty look and muttered, “What is this shit?” 

“Shut up, it’s good. Once you get past the intro, anyway,” he whispered back.

“Who wants a drink?” Rae called out, handing Marsha back the bottle she’d brought. “Do you want a glass for that, Marsha?”

* * * * *

An hour later, and the party was no bigger or better. Chop and Finn sat in one corner, Finn drawing in his sketchbook; Chop staring into the barrel of his gun. Archie was crammed into the corner of the sofa, avoiding Marsha’s advances. And Rae and Twist sat at the table, chatting. “Anyway, this place seems nice! It’ll be better when you’ve unpacked and cleaned up, but …”

“Actually, no. This is it.” 

“Oh! Well, Finn seems nice. Friendly, and that. Are you two … ?”

“Hmm? No! No.” Rae dropped her voice to a whisper. “But, Marsha thinks we are, so … you know.”

“What?”

“Just, don’t.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Rae grimaced and shoveled some dip onto a carrot, eating it surreptitiously.

“I’m so proud you’re better about all that food stuff, Rae!” Twist trilled.

Rae’s eyes bugged out of her head and she looked over to see if Finn heard. He didn’t look up from his pad, so she cleared her throat and asked Marsha, “So, Marsha, will Izzy make an appearance? I’m sure she’s got better things to do, being a teenager and all …”

Marsha sat up and took a drag off her cigarette. Archie visibly relaxed as she did. “She’s not a teenager; she’s the devil in an A cup! Her friends were meeting up here to go to a club later, so I doubt it.”

Twist perked up, “A club? Which one? I haven’t been to a club for weeks!”

Rae shook her head. “We’re not tagging along with Izzy to a club.”

Finn looked up at her, “Why not? This party is a zero. Not even the paperboy showed up.” 

She shot him a glance full of daggers and sputtered, “But, all the dips … we haven’t even had the space cakes!”

Twist patted her arm, “Now, Rae, stop feeling like a big old failure, everything’s going to be fine.”

“I—I didn’t—“

“Twist, why don’t you fu—“ Finn started.

Rae jumped in. “—Fffind us another tape to play! This one’s just about to end, I think.”

Finn flipped his sketchbook shut and walked over, whispering, “Why’re you friends with her? She’s bloody awful!”

“She’s not! She’s funny! She’s …” Rae sighed. “We’ve been friends since we were five. That’s the reason. We’re friends because we’ve always been friends. If I met her today, I’d think … well, anyway. She’s not that bad, really. I think she’s just uncomfortable, trying to fit in or whatever.”

Finn scoffed. Rae glanced over at Chop, who had spent the whole party just being Chop. Surveying the perimeter of the yard out the front window, scanning the hall for intruders at regular intervals, and inspecting his pistol like a tic. But now that Finn had left his side, he carefully crossed the room to interact with strangers, like a hermit crab changing shells. 

“So, uh, Archie? You’re an artist? What kind of thing do you do?”

“Go on,” Marsha drawled, half-plastered from a bottle of cheap red wine. “Tell him.”

Archie swallowed. “Um … anger … pain … fear … aggression … you know. Primal stuff.” 

Chop nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”

Archie looked up, surprised. “Do you? Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not one for art, usually, but that sounds like something I’d like. Sounds … cool.”

Archie allowed Chop a small smile. “Well, thanks.”

“Maybe I’ll have to check it out sometime. When I’m not on maneuvers, that is.”

Archie started to nod when Rae thrust a fairy cake in front of him, chocolate with green icing and a tin foil alien as decoration. “Space cake?“

Finn nodded as he shoved half a cake in his face and said, through a mouthful, “They’re really good. Homemade, you know?”

Everyone but Twist had one. She was off wheat this month. "Ooh, Time Warp!” She’d found the Rocky Horror soundtrack. Finn groaned and ate another cake.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, the door buzzed and when they went down to answer it, a small man in cycling shorts and a neon t-shirt stood there, arms outstretched. “Oi oi! You lucky people!”

Finn and Rae stood, mouths agape and said, in unison, “Danny?”

Then, they looked at each other and both spoke again. “Wait, YOU know Danny?” All Danny knew was, the party had truly begun.


	6. Your Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a mixed bag, but I feel like it's going somewhere now!

Rae awoke with a championship headache. The head she had could ache for England in a world competition. It had layers to it, the base was a dull hum, and there were throbby overtones, along with a metallic taste in her mouth that she couldn’t account for. The rest of her didn’t feel much better. As she went to sit up, to elevate her brain and maybe relieve some of the pressure inside her skull, she didn’t make it far before she was caught on something. 

Ah. An arm.

Wait. An arm? 

She felt along the appendage until she found the fingers at the end, then twisted the opposite direction to see who it was attached to. 

Oh. Finn. 

Wait. Finn?

But he was fully clothed, as was she. She looked up and saw the door to his room was open. Over the arm of the sofa she could see a tangled cascade of dyed red hair. 

Ah. Yes. Marsha. Quite.

So, this was just to keep up the pretense. She relaxed, not even aware how much she had tensed up at the thought of sharing a bed with Finn. She glanced back down at him and noticed that his forehead was untroubled; he looked utterly serene, like a bleached blonde cherub. And he was pouting. In his sleep. Jesus Christ. She looked away, unable to handle staring at his stupid face another moment. 

She instead turned her gaze to the Buffy poster on the wall next to his bed. After inspecting that for a bit, she got restless. God, he could sleep. She gingerly tried to lift his arm, so she could get up and inspect the damage to the flat, but he let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine and held her tighter. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and settled back into the pillow behind her head. In a few minutes, she managed to drift back to sleep.

* * * * *

Finn exhaled a sigh of relief when Rae’s breathing became even and steady. He’d woken up halfway through her struggling to free herself, but, for some reason, he didn’t like the idea of her leaving his bed just yet. So, he faked rousing just a bit, and she’d bought it. He now opened one eye, to chance a peek at her, hoping she really was asleep. She was. 

He didn’t know what he was feeling. He’d been so upset about Stacey chucking him a few weeks back. Didn’t you need a long time to get over a seven year relationship? A small fraction of his brain still held onto a scrap of hope that Stacey would call him up and say she’d made a mistake and wanted him back.

On the other hand, he felt this strange easiness with Rae. It made him realize how DIFFICULT things had been with Stacey. And he didn’t want to just fall into another relationship, not that Rae was looking for one. She was still technically IN a relationship, with this Richard character. Finn definitely didn’t want to meet him. He seemed imaginary at the moment, just a voice on the phone, something that could have been conjured out of thin air. And Rae didn’t seem to even LIKE Richard that much. Dick, more like. Finn had started thinking of Richard as DICK after that phone call a couple nights back where Rae had said, “I love you, Boss Hog” in an exasperated voice. 

Now his eyes were both open, and he was staring at Rae as she slept. Okay, this was a little creepy. It was his turn to try and extricate himself. As he lifted his arm a fraction, Rae turned on her side toward Finn, face dangerously close to his. She sighed through her nose and hummed groggily. She had a strand of hair in her face, which Finn brushed back out of instinct. It was this, his fingers skimming the skin of her cheek, that finally woke her for good. He watched her eyes fly open, and then blink rapidly. She seemed to smile instinctively when she saw him, in that moment of truth right after waking, when you aren’t lucid enough to put up a front. But she quickly turned that smile into a squint and then stretched her arm up over her head. 

“Oh, hi,” she said through a yawn. “Good morning?”

He shifted back as she sat up. “Yeah, g’morning.” He rubbed his eye, making a bit of a show to indicate that he had just woken, as well. 

“What happened last night? I don’t remember much after Danny showed up.”

“Well, let’s see …”

And then, like a flood through a tunnel, they were swept back to last night, the fragments of their memories joining up like puzzle pieces to reconstruct what happened.

* * * * *

“Danny … you know Danny, too … that was weird.” Finn muttered.

“Yeah, I met him years ago. We used to do group therapy together.” This was 2004. This was London. Therapy wasn’t something you snuck in and out of in dark glasses and made excuses for; it was a badge of artistic honor. Having been in therapy meant you had problems, and problems were what all great art is born from. 

Finn nodded, seemingly unfazed. “Yeah? I met him at a rave a couple years back. He’s a messenger, and he bikes my drawings around sometimes, when I’m submitting my portfolio and that. He also always seems to have a wodge of cash on hand, so I probably owe him a small fortune, but luckily he never seems to remember lending me money.”

“Huh.” Rae had never figured Danny to be one who’d ever have any money, so she wondered what else he delivered on that bike. Which turned her mind to why she might have gaps in her memory. Wine. Space cake, well cakeS. And then Danny had pulled a rolled up baggie from the bum bag slung around his waist. He’d waggled his eyebrows and unfurled it, handing around the little blue pills to everyone. Ahhh, right.

There was dancing. And sunglasses at night. And Twist had managed to play the Time Warp, but Rae and Finn had battered her with cushions for the entirety of the song. And Marsha had sung along to Status Quo’s Mystery Song with rude made up lyrics, ending her rendition with a loudly shouted “WANKER!” before she fell face first on the sofa. Chop held Archie in his thrall, telling stories about his TA training days and that time he stole a tank. Archie had declared he wanted to paint it. And how had the hosts ended up in bed together? 

Finn sat up, and Rae did, too, rubbing her temples. Her head wasn’t as bad as when she’d first woken up, but the party had continued in her skull.

“Should we … ?” Finn gestured to his open door. Rae nodded; they should. They should clean up and send their guests home.

Standing in the doorway, Rae surveyed the damage. Why had she used so much tinfoil? Luckily most of it could be recycled. She must’ve been on a party-planning/work-avoidance high. It became clear how they’d ended up in bed together. Every surface in the living room was littered with bodies, and they must’ve decided even in their drug-addled state, it would look odd to retreat to separate rooms. Marsha had commandeered the whole sofa. Twist was curled up in the bean bag, hugging a corner of it. Chop was strewn across the armchair, and Archie was on the floor next to the chair, head resting on Chop’s leg. The two of them were wearing each other’s glasses. Danny was still up; there was no indication he’d slept at all. He was dancing in the corner of the room, facing the wall, grooving to the beat in his own head. Rae cleared her throat and he spun around. He was wearing Chop’s US Army baseball cap over his own yellow cycling hat. “Oi oi!” he whispered. “Good morning, you lucky people!”

“Morning, Danny. I see you’re back to wearing two hats.” Rae smiled.

“Two hats, two tyres, everythin’s better in twos, doncha know?”

“Mmmm, sure. Would you like a cup of tea? Or two?” Rae went over to put the kettle on. Finn had started putting slices into the toaster, and pressed the lever, nodding at her. 

“No, no thanks. My stomach’s like a walnut. Maybe just a glass of water?” 

“Sure thing.” Rae filled a glass from the tap and handed it to Danny, who took a dainty sip before handing it back. “I’d better get my skates on, friend-os.” He opened the door to the hall and laid hands upon his bike, grinning. “My baby!” he exclaimed, stroking the handlebars. “Well, I’ll see the PAIR of yous later, then!” He winked gratuitously at Rae and nodded knowingly at Finn before hoisting his bike onto his shoulder and jogging down the stairs.

Rae crossed over to the window and watched as Danny sped away. “Christ, he’s a fast little bugger. And what was he on about?”

Finn cleared his throat. “What d’ya mean?”

“All that bollocks about twos and pairs. He must be on more drugs than I thought.”

Finn laughed.

* * * * *

A whispered conversation now came back to Finn. He and Danny in the corner:

> “So are you an’ Rae, y’know … an item?”
> 
> “What? No! Rae’s not like that. We’re just good mates.”
> 
> “But you’re livin’ together. Close quarters. It’s all a bit …”
> 
> “A bit?”
> 
> “Intimate, mate. You’ll be on top of each other. Maybe literally.”
> 
> “Sod off.”
> 
> “Mark my words, mate. Anyway, what happened to Stacey?”
> 
> “Chucked me. Dating her boss.”
> 
> “Mmm. I think you’re better off there. She’s … well. She’s no Rae.”
> 
> “I told you! We’re just friends.”
> 
> “Yeah, I heard you. D’ya want another tab?”
> 
> “Go on, then.”

Things definitely got hazy after that second hit of e, but he could recall that conversation with alarming clarity. He was pondering the meaning of things when the toast popped up, startling him. Rae sidled up to him with the butter dish, as if on queue, and said, “Milk, two sugars, right?”

He nodded, brain spinning. She’d memorized how he took his tea in just a few days. Before he could process this, she handed him a steaming brew and slid two plates onto the counter for him to deposit the freshly buttered toast. He thought about mornings with Stacey, which were usually a poorly-choreographed bumbling disaster. The two of them bumping into each other, always seeming to want to occupy the same bit of kitchen, and Stacey taking an age in the bathroom to get ready. Without a skincare routine, Rae seemed to take less time to get ready than he did, especially since he had to do something to make his hair look decent when he wasn’t wearing a knit cap. 

“You’re toast.”

Finn snapped out of his reverie. “Hmmm?”

“Your toast. It’s getting cold.” Rae gave him a bewildered look, and then drifted over to try and wake Marsha and Twist. 

“Yeah, thanks.”  He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. 

Twist roused and stood up, swaying on the spot for a moment, before propelling herself like a homing pigeon into the bathroom. She didn’t say good morning or even acknowledge her hosts before she shut the door behind her and locked it. 

Rae and Finn looked at each other, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, before each returning to sip their tea. Marsha groaned and tried to sit up. Chop went from fast asleep on the chair to standing at attention in a split second, which meant Archie slumped to the floor. 

“At ease, mate,” Finn said as he put his mug down to help Archie up off the rug. Rae got his other arm and the two of them propelled Archie out the door and down the stairs to his flat.

“Tanks, tanks,” Archie muttered. 

 “You’re welcome, you weirdo,” Rae said, shaking her head. 

His door was open, and they deposited him inside. He curled himself up on a pile of paint-splattered drop cloths and Finn shrugged. “He looks comfy enough.” They went back upstairs, passing Twist on the way. 

“Twist, d’ya want a cup o’—“

“Not now, Rae! I’m late for work at the dry—um, fashion office!”

“Dry fashion?” Finn asked, his question punctuated by the door slamming behind Twist. 

“Uhhhhh, yeeeaaah. It’s a new thing. You’ve heard of the wet look?”

“S’pose so.” Finn didn’t have any idea what Rae was on about.

“Well, this is the opposite, yeah? Simple.”

Back in their apartment, they found Chop pacing, gun in hand. “Never abandon your stronghold, mate,” he admonished Finn as he slipped back in the door. 

“Sorry, we just took Archie down to his flat.”

“Yeah? Is his door still open?”

“Uh, how’d ya … ? Yeah, it is.”

“Good. Just, he still has me glasses, and I have his. We must’ve swapped to check each other’s prescriptions and fallen ‘sleep before we changed back.”

“Oh, right!”

“So, I’ll jus’ go and swap back before I head home. Thanks for a great party, mate. I’ll see ya soon, yeah?”

Finn nodded, and Chop was gone in a flash. 

Which left Marsha, who had just about managed to struggle upright. 

“Good morning,” she moaned, an expression between a grimace and a grin on her face. 

Rae smiled back at her. “Would you like a cup of tea? Or help upstairs?”

Marsha shook her head. “Never drink tea, and I’ve got my help scheduled to arrive right about …”

As if on cue, a teenage girl with a mane of red hair and a permanent eye roll appeared in the open door frame. She was still in her club clothes, her eyeliner smudged and the faint tinge of blue around her mouth from drinking a load of alcopops. She sighed and put her hand on her hip. “C’mon, Mum. Time to go home.”

Rae held out her hand. “You must be Izzy! We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Izzy merely nodded. “Yeah? Cool.” Marsha stumbled over to her daughter and the two of them struggled down the hall and up the stairs. Finn and Rae exchanged a look and Rae asked after them, “You sure you don’t want any help?”

Izzy just grunted and said, “Nah, I’m just gonna chuck her in her room.”

And then, there were two. Finn looked at the clock. Shit, it was already almost ten. He was going to be late to work.

* * * * *

“Hey, um, I’ll help you clean up later, okay? I’ve gotta get to work.” Finn flashed her a grin tinged with regret and Rae nodded. 

“I made most of the mess; only fair I clean it up.”

“That’s not what I meant … I liked your glitter ball.”

“Suuuure you did. I’ll admit; it was silly. I just … sometimes I get caught up in the idea of something. But last night was pretty fun, right?” Rae tried to keep the tone of her question casual, like she didn’t care if he liked it or not. Because she shouldn’t care. They were just roommates, after all. Well, maybe proper mates, as well.

“It was! It was … probably the most fun I’ve had in a while, if I’m honest.” Finn sipped his tea and peered over the edge of his mug at Rae. 

She couldn’t help but laugh. “If that’s true … you need to get out more, my friend.”

He straightened up, setting the mug on the counter. “But we didn’t go out. We stayed in and had fun.”

“Well … technically. I brought the fun to us.”

“I think it was a joint effort.”

“Maybe,” Rae conceded. “I guess we make a pretty good team.”

Just then, her mobile buzzed as it vibrated on the counter. The two of them looked over at once and saw the name flash up:  **BOSS HOG**.


	7. Awkward As Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s a rambling mess of a chapter that progresses us about twelve hours in the lives of our heroes. Like, I need someone to tell me where I can jump cut to a future date, for serious.

After seeing Richard’s nickname flash up on Rae’s phone, Finn seemed to remember himself. 

“Oh, shit,” he said in a monotone. “I’m gonna really be late now.” He set his mug down with a heavy thunk, a bit of tea sloshing out on the counter. He snatched the half-eaten piece of toast off his plate and marched into his room, slamming the door.

Rae stood there blinking, wondering what happened. She picked up her phone and flipped it open to read Richard’s message.

WE NEED TO TALK. WHEN’S GOOD?

Rae sighed. Probably better to get whatever it was over with, but she needed a minute to gather herself, so she texted back:

OK. CALL YOU IN AN HOUR.

She sipped her tea and closed her eyes to breathe deeply, counting to ten under her breath. She hadn’t done that in forever, but it still calmed her down a little.

When she opened her eyes, Finn was coming out of his bedroom. He’d thrown on some different clothes and was pulling a knit cap on over his hair. He had his bag slung over his shoulder and picked up his skateboard as he crossed to the door. He paused. “See ya later,” he said quietly. Then, as he pulled the door closed behind him, she thought she heard him say, “Say hi to Richard.”

Well, that was weird.

She decided to get cleaned up, so she jumped in the shower and washed the previous night away. An idea for an article came to her in the steam of the shower, so when she was dressed, hair thrown up in a towel, she dragged her typewriter out and started writing. She was on her third page when the phone rang. She looked up at the clock. Noon. Shit.

She picked up the receiver and said, as casually as she could, “Hello?” 

“Rae, what the hell? You said you’d call me in an hour.”

“Oh, Richard! I’m so sorry, something came up, I was just dealing with it. I was just about to call you.”

“Sure you were. Listen, Rae …”

“Don’t you mean ‘Daisy Duke’?” Rae chuckled, trying to pretend she didn’t know what was going on.

“No, I don’t. Rae, listen, we both know this isn’t working …”

_Wait, what? He’s breaking up with ME? I was supposed to end things with him, once everything clicked for me here in London. Once I’d got a great job at a magazine, I was going to call him and say, ‘We’re just too different. We live in separate worlds now, Richard.’ And then he was going to CRY._  A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and she wiped it away roughly. _This is total bollocks!_

“What? What d’ya mean? Things’re fine!”

Richard sighed. “No, they’re not. We barely talk to each other, and I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I don’t have the train fare! You could come to see me!”

“You were living in a squat, Rae!”

“So? I’m not anymore!”

“Do you really want me to come down there now? After I’ve said I don’t think things are working? It would be … awkward.”

Even though she knew it would be awkward, awkward as fuck, the panic started to rise within Rae. She wasn’t good with rejection. She always wanted to be the one to reject first, and with Richard, she’d never imagined he’d ever get the backbone to break up with her. It wasn’t that he was unfortunate looking or dumb; he was just such a nonentity. Indistinguishable from hundreds of other grad students. She, on the other hand, was at least someone memorable and interesting, even if she hated that fact. She sighed. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I guess not,” she mumbled down the line. 

“I’ll send your stuff to your new address. Do you have anything of mine?” 

Rae racked her brain, only to find that she didn’t. She hadn’t thought to take a shirt of his or even a book. She didn’t have any physical reminder that she was in a relationship, apart from a couple of blurry photos in a box somewhere. That should have tipped her off a year ago.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll check.”

“I think this is for the best, Rae.” Richard cleared his throat, and then rushed out a few more words. “So does Miranda.”

Rae nodded into the phone. “Wait, who the fuck is Miranda?”

“She’s someone I’ve started hanging out with; she’s just a friend.” A slight pause. “You know, like how the guy you moved in with after two weeks is just a friend. What’s his name? Tim?”

“It’s FINN, and we ARE just mates.”

“Okay, sure. Look, we can be adults about this, right? Remain friends?”

Rae rolled her eyes, but said, “Yeah. ‘Course we can.”

“Alright. Well … maybe I’ll see ya around.”

“Yep, maybe. Have a nice life.”

“You too.” There was another moment of dead air, and then Richard said, “Bye,” and hung up.

The dial tone buzzed in her ear and Rae pulled the phone away from her ear and glared at it before slamming it down on its base.

She went to the typewriter, ripped out the page that was in it, threaded a new one into the carriage and started pounding the keys.

* * * * *

Finn pushed through the door at Fantasy Music Bazaar. He glanced up at the X-Men clock hanging above the rack of new comics just as Bilbo’s head popped up from behind the counter. “You’re late.” He clocked Finn’s face and said, “Whoa, what’s up with you? You look as though someone just killed off your favorite Star Wars character.”

Finn continued to frown, but said, “I know, I know. Sorry. We had a bit of a housewarming last night and …” His frown took on an new dimension, brows knitting together, eyes flashing up. “Hey, they DID kill off my favorite Star Wars character!”

Bilbo turned a page in his comic. “Not according to the Expanded Universe. Oh, and thanks for the invite, by the way!”

“Sorry, but it was last minute, and I thought you were going to the Tripods convention in Swindon. But you’re here now, so …”

“Triopds? I haven’t been into Tripods for years. I only ever liked them ironically, anyway.” 

“Really? Well, like I said, I’m sorry. I’ll have Rae come in the shop some day so you can meet her.”

Bilbo shrugged. “Tell her to buy somethin’ while she’s here; takings are down again.”

“Yeah, she’s looking for work at the minute, so I don’t think she’ll be purchasing.” Finn flipped through a box of comics someone had sold as a lot. “Are things really that bad?”

“You’re here four days a week; you tell me. How many times a shift do you hear that little bell ring?”

Finn looked up at the little brass bell that tinkled whenever the door was opened. Bilbo had a point. Finn worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He couldn’t lose this job. His brain started whirring away. “Should we change the hours? Maybe open a little later and stay open till 8? Or 9?”

Bilbo scratched his outsized ear and made a thoughtful sound. “That might work … but I think it might be time for you to hit the streets again.” Finn looked up, alarmed, thinking this was Bilbo firing him. Instead, he saw Bilbo hitch his thumb at the Aquaman costume hung up behind the counter. “I’ll print up some fliers, and you can roam the high street, hopefully knock up some trade.”

Finn sighed deeply and nodded. Anything to further the cause of the shop. As he suited up, he realized that he wasn’t angry anymore, and couldn’t really figure out why he’d been mad in the first place. So, Richard had texted Rae. They were dating; that was natural. He was going to have to find some things to distract him from that part of her life. It wasn’t any of his business. He repeated that thought a few times in his head, hoping it would sink in. 

* * * * *

Meanwhile, at home Rae had gone on a tear. She’d circled every media job in the paper and typed out cover letters. She still had some CVs on hand from the last time she’d made the rounds trying to get a job a couple months back. She hadn’t done anything to warrant updating it, so she just put some bullshit in her opening salvo and hoped it would impress someone enough to get an interview.

She couldn’t be jobless and aimless and dumped at the same time; it was too humiliating. She needed something to focus on that wasn’t Richard or how shit her life was. She thought about how her life had outwardly changed, she was living with a guy she barely knew, but how it didn’t make a difference about how she felt inside. She’d stopped going to therapy, stopped working on herself. She’d once gotten to a place where she didn’t actively hate herself, but hadn’t pushed through to self-love and felt herself back-sliding. She needed a distraction; she needed something to look forward to. 

When she’d gotten all her envelopes addressed and stuffed full of her hopes and dreams, she jogged up the stairs to Marsha’s flat and knocked on the door.

The door swung open, revealing her landlady in a green velvet ensemble, cigarette dangling from her lips. “What’s up, kitten?”

A loud huff was heard from the other room, and Marsha raised her voice, “I can call other people kitten, kitten! An’ clean up your room; it’s a tip!” A door slammed and Marsha focused her eyes back on Rae, who laughed nervously and said, “Teenagers, eh? What are they like?”

“She’s not a teenager; she’s the DEVIL IN AN A-CUP!” Marsha turned her head to shout at Izzy’s closed door.

At this, the redhead opened the door and popped her head out to say, “I’m a B-cup and you KNOW IT, MUM!” Another slammed door followed; a picture on the wall shuddering on its nail.

“What can I do for ya, Rae?” Marsha beamed at her, and Rae marveled at how quickly she could switch from hot to cold. 

“I-uh, I wondered if I could borrow a few stamps? We’re out and I want to get some … letters in the post.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. How many d’ya need?”

Rae riffled through the stack, mentally counting. “Um, eleven?”

“Bloody hell. Lemme see how many I’ve got.” She wandered into the kitchen and Rae took the opportunity to glance around the flat. It was the same layout as theirs, but filled with a lot more furniture, dusty velvet curtains at the windows, and a load of potted plants. It looked as if Marsha had lived here since before Rae was born, which she instantly realized could be true. 

Marsha drifted back out of the kitchen, a strip of Queen’s portraits in her hand. “Here ya go, I found twelve.” She ripped one off the end and offered the rest to Rae.

“Thanks, Marsha, I’ll buy ya some replacements when I get my ben—paycheck next week.” Rae sighed.

“No worries; whenever ya get the chance.” Marsha squinted at Rae, sizing her up. “Everythin’ okay, darlin’? Ya seem a little out of sorts.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, my boyfriend split up with me.”  _SHIT._  It was out before she realized what she’d done. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. You two seemed so cozy last night! I never would have suspected anythin’ was wrong.” She took a drag off her cigarette and said, in a sterner tone. “So, which one of you is movin’ out?”

Rae did a rapid fire count to ten in her head, took a deep breath, and said, “I—we—it’s probably nothing! Finn says these things, and we always make it up. Don’t worry!”

“Well, don’t put up with any bullshit, m’dear. Take it from me, it ain’t worth it. Better to be alone than with a wanker dickhead son-of-a-bitch bastard.”

“Yeah, I know. I think I’m probably overreacting to what he said. It … things’re fine. Don’t worry. I’ve gotta run, catch the post.” The stream of profanities running through Rae’s head put Marsha’s to shame, and they were all directed at herself.  _You utter fucking idiot. You haven’t been here a week and you’re already fucking everything up._  She waved a quick thanks at Marsha and pounded down the stairs.

* * * * *

When Finn returned home from work, he almost ran into Rae, who was on her way out. She wore her leather jacket and a face like thunder. 

“Hiya, how’s it—“ She flashed past him into the hall and down the stairs, clutching a fistful of envelopes. 

“Can’t chat; gotta catch the last post,” she tossed over her shoulder as she banged the door behind her.

“Oookay, fine.” Finn dropped his bag by the front door and hung up his jacket before slumping onto the sofa. He sat there for a moment, wondering what to do next. He leaned forward to pick up a video game controller, but then set it back down. He wasn’t sure if he was in the mood to blast zombies in the face, for once. He glanced at his sketch book, but left it alone. Then, he noticed a load of wadded up paper in the trash can. He stood up to investigate, glancing around, even though he’d just seen Rae leave, then plucked the first ball of paper off the top. He smoothed it out and read:

> “To Whom It May Concern:
> 
> Enclosed please find my CV and references. I would love to be a part of the  _Flaps_  team, bringing informative and entertaining articles to the modern young woman on the go who has something to say.”

Finn furrowed his brow.  _Flaps? On the go? Where to?_ All of that sounded pretty awful, but if it meant a job for Rae … He figured the rest of the papers had similar half-formed and rejected sentiments on them, so he just scrunched up the sheet he’d read and dropped it back on the pile. His eyes lighted on the short stack of mail on the table. His dad had forwarded him a letter from his uncle, there was a bill addressed to the former tenant, and a brown envelope addressed to Archie was there, as well. Clearly, the letter carrier inadvertently slipped this letter in with their mail. 

Finn glanced around again, for absolutely no good reason this time, as he knew Archie wasn’t here, and slid his finger under the seal of the envelope, pleased to find it was easy enough to open without ripping. He certainly was in a sneaky mood today. He pulled out the card, which had a single word emblazoned in the middle of it and made a bewildered face. Then, he stuck his lower lip out in a guilty pout, put the card back and stood up to take it down to Archie.

He opened the door, only to find Archie standing on the other side of it. 

“Oh, hey there. I was just about to … uh, we got some of your mail.” Finn handed him the envelope and Archie nodded slowly. He looked deep in thought, and when he noticed the letter in his hand, he looked at it curiously. 

“It’s open,” he trailed off.

“Yeah, that’s—I wasn’t paying attention … and we’ve both got “I”s in our names.” Finn looked away guiltily as Archie pulled out the card inside. His eyes scanned the page for a long time, and then he read the word on the paper out loud. “Come.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, what’s that all about?”

“It’s from Vulva.”

“Is that another woman’s magazine? I’ll have to tell Rae to send in her CV to them.”

“Vulva’s an old friend. She’s has a show, apparently.” He looked at the back of the card and nodded. “Next week.”

“You’ve got a friend called Vulva? Who’s called Vulva?”

“Real name’s Ian.”

“Her real name is Ian?”

“She-He’s non-gender-specific.”

Finn opened his mouth to ask another question, but then just shrugged and said, “Fair enough.”

“We had a multi-media art partnership, before she moved on. Well, I say partnership, but she pulled all the strings; I just danced to her tune. That relationship was … well, it had a lot of levels.”

“Ohhhhh,” Finn nodded. He wasn’t really sure what that meant, but if Archie was sort of gay, he could sort of imagine. “So, are you going to go?”

Archie huffed out a chuckle. “Well, I mean, it’s been so long … but I might … actually, maybe I’ll think about it.”

“No, I meant, are you going to go … now?” Finn was joking with Archie, but of course he took it seriously, standing up to go.

“Sit down, you twat, d’ya want a cup of tea?”

Archie nodded, still deep in thought.

Finn filled the kettle, then flicked the switch, getting the mugs while the water boiled. After he dropped a tea bag at the bottom of each cup, he leant back against the counter, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. If he were still living with Stacey, what would he be up to? Probably listening to her talk about her day at a million miles an hour, wondering if she’d ever ask about his. He’d bet that if someone asked her where he worked, she wouldn’t be able to name the place. That was messed up. 

A buzzing noise roused Finn out of his reverie. He turned around to find out what it was. It was Rae’s mobile. She’d forgotten it on the counter. Finn leaned forward to read the tiny exterior screen. BOSS HOG.  _Shit._  He peered over his shoulder at Archie, who was just a husk, his brain somewhere else entirely. Finn surreptitiously picked up Rae’s phone and with the care of someone disarming an explosive device, slowly and carefully opened the phone to read the message. 

DAISY DUKE … DOUBLE D … THINK I MADE A MISTAKE BREAKING THINGS OFF … CALL ME? … SORRY SORRY SORRY … I CAN SAY IT A MILLION TIMES IF IT WILL HELP … LOVE YOU XOXO

Finn stared at the dim screen and the pixelated letters until his vision blurred. The kettle started to whistle, and he jolted with surprise. With one more glance at Archie, he looked back at the phone and saw the option to DELETE? He pressed the button quickly and got flustered when ARE YOU SURE Y/N? flashed up. He pressed the left button for Y long and hard, then quickly and quietly closed the phone, gently placed it in it’s same spot, then twisted around to deal with the tea. 

“What d’ya take in your tea, Arch?”

Archie blinked several times and Finn repeated his question.

“Do you have any agave?”

“Mmmm, not even sure what that is, so, nope.”

“Just two sugars, then. No milk.”

Finn nodded and shoveled two heaping mounds of sugar into the cup, stirring it, and setting it in front of Archie. 

The door to the flat opened and Rae gave Finn a horrified look. 

“What, what is it?” Finn glanced around to see if she could tell he’d been in her phone.

“Finn, I fucked up.”

“Huh?” He felt that should have been his line.

“I told Marsha … Richard broke up with me, and—“

Finn’s eyes widened and he blinked rapidly. He should react. Like he didn’t already know that and more. “Hmm—what?! That bastard!”

“Never mind about him,” Rae wailed.

“Are you upset about it?”  _This might be laying it on too thick_ , Finn thought.

“I was, but … listen. I went up to borrow some stamps from Marsha and she caught me off guard, and I said my boyfriend had broken up with me.”

“So? OH.” Finn asked and answered his own question. “Shit,” he breathed.

“Shit buggering bollocks, more like,” Rae agreed.

“So, what do we do?”

“I said that we, that this happens all the time, and we always make it up. I mean, that’s true of me and Richard, really. So, it could be okay. Maybe just a tempest in a teapot. Hopefully.” A miserable look settled on her features, “I’m so sorry, Finn. Maybe I can get back into my squat. You can ask Chop to move in with you, yeah?”

Finn moved forward and put his hand on Rae’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I thought you just said it could be okay. I think it’s fine. We’ll just … lay it on thick. Pretend to be back together.” Rae looked up, wiping a tear of frustration from her eye.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He smiled at her, then raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid it means more hand-holding than ever, though.”

Rae smiled at this. “Well, that might not be so bad.”

Finn sighed inwardly, then grinned. “Might have to do some fake make up sex noises, too.”

Rae raised an eyebrow. “Really, now? I thought we wouldn’t be at it that much, according to you. Hmm, make up sex, yeah? That’d be longer, I’m guessing?”

Finn nodded. “And louder.”

Archie stood up suddenly, startling them both. They’d forgotten he was there. “I’m going to go. I need to think about this.” He brandished the cryptic invite and swept out of the flat.

“D’ya think he heard us?” Rae asked.

“Absolutely not,” Finn said.

Rae sighed and Finn reached down to give her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. “Tea?” he inquired.


	8. Glitch in the Matrix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of became a lot more Rae and Finn and sort of really deviated from the plot of the show. But I’ll be clutching it back a little next chapter, and some other characters will get in the mix again. This chapter isn’t as funny, but … I don’t know. I hope you like it!

“OhhhHHHH. Mmmm, yeeeaaahhhh …” Rae moaned, tipping her head back to look up at Finn’s ceiling.

“Louder!” Finn whispered.

“OOOOoooOOOohhhhh!” She looked at Finn, to see if that was the reaction he was hoping for. He nodded at her to keep it up. She felt a little silly, but they had to get this right. She settled back against his pillow and made another exclamation of pleasure, followed by “Fuck, Finn!” She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye and he smiled more broadly at her use of his name. Then she whispered, “Why aren’t you making any noises?”

He raised an eyebrow, whispering, “Because … in THIS particular scenario, my mouth is otherwise occupied.”

Rae turned her head to stare at him with her mouth open for a moment, her cheeks warm, then shook her head and swallowed, staring back up at the ceiling. Best not waste time imagining what that would be like, because it would never happen. Now that they were engaged in this playacting scenario, she should concentrate on making it sound real. Finn nudged her with his elbow to continue and she cleared her throat, gearing up for the crescendo finale. She slowly and slyly smiled, then crowed out loud, couldn’t help arching her back a little, even though this wasn’t really real, and at the end of her wail, she added a low chuckle for good measure. Then she bit her lip, threaded her fingers together casually across her stomach and looked over at Finn, who was taking his turn to stare at her. 

“So, d’ya think that was … believable?” she whispered.

Finn’s eyes were wide, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’d buy that.” He turned over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Rae smiled to herself. Good. Now Marsha would think they were back together. But, a thought had been nagging the back of her mind since they started this whole scheme just a week ago … why? Why would anyone with good eyesight believe they were together? Though he tried to hide his fit-ness under peroxided hair and baggy clothes, no one could deny that he was … an epic slice of deliciousness. Rae had been trying to ignore it, just focusing on how well they got on, but the insecurities she had worked on keeping at bay were beginning to howl in her mind.  _I’m just a blob … a blob with a gob. Why would he even want to be in a_ sham _relationship with me?_

Finn nudged her again. “Oi. Earth to Rae. Whatcha thinking about so hard over there?”

“I’m thinking …”  _Time to lie_. “I’m thinking how to tell you you’ve got B.O. Did you  _wash_  these sheet before you put them on the bed?”

He kicked her foot with his, but laughed. “Might be time for a trip to the launderette.” 

Rae smirked and sat up. “Well, now that we’ve “reunited” out loud, I think I’ll go to my room and get some sleep.” She pushed herself off the bed and paused in the doorway to look back at Finn, her finger on the light switch. “Light off or on?”

“Off.” 

She flipped the switch and whispered, “Good night,” into the darkness. Finn hummed in the affirmative. She pulled the door shut behind her and sighed.

* * * * *

The door clicked shut behind her and Finn exhaled a deep sigh. 

“Shit,” he whispered into the dark.

* * * * *

_One week later_

Finn was up early, after having been up late. He wasn’t getting the best sleep lately, and had taken to playing video games to zone out, finding the mindless violence soothing. He heard Rae’s door open and paused his game to twist around and say good morning.

Rae stepped out of her bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of her eye and yawning awake. “Morning,” she mumbled as she padded to the refrigerator, opened the door and squinted at its contents. She shook her head and closed the door, then shuffled over to the sofa, slumping onto it with a sigh. “Did we get the mail yet?”

Finn nodded and tried to articulate around a mouthful of toast as he smashed the buttons on his game controller and resumed play. “I did hear droppage, yes.”

Rae slapped her hands on her thighs and stood right back up. “Right then! I’m going to get my rejection letters!” She’d been getting one or two a day since she sent out that batch of CVs. Finn shot a zombie in the face, imagining it was an editor of one of the magazines. “Die, you piece of shite deadhead,” he muttered.

Rae came back into the flat, sighing. Finn paused the game again, and waited to hear what she had to say. “Looks like only one, today. I’ll open it later. I’ll get rejected after my toast.” She flipped through the rest of the letters. “Hey, you got your  _Total Cult_ subscription. And … what the _fuck_?” Finn turned around on the bean bag to see what was up. Rae tore open an envelope and read the page inside with a glare. 

“What? I thought you were waiting to read rejection letters until after breakfast.”

“It’s not a rejection. Well … It’s—I don’t know what it is. It’s from Richard.”

“Dick?!” Finn exclaimed, Rae shooting him a confused look. She scanned the page and then read aloud, “Since you didn’t respond to my text last week or call me back; I’m taking the train down and hope you’ll meet with me. I’ll be there Saturday at 4:00 at the Parliament Hill Cafe on Hampstead Heath.” She slowly lifted her head. “I’m so confused. What text? What calls? And that’s this afternoon!”

Finn bit his lip and closed his eyes. He should have realized he couldn’t keep telling Richard that Rae was out forever. He cleared his throat. “Y’know, once my cousin didn’t get any texts for a week; it was, like, a glitch in the Matrix or something …”

Rae nodded absentmindedly. “I guess that could happen. But, calls, too? Did you take any messages from him?”

“Ummmm, he might’ve called once …” Finn started to look away, but Rae crossed over to look down at him with a glare. “Once?”

Finn met her eyes with a guilty glance. “Maybe twice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, he dumped you, which already makes him a mega-twat, and then he wants to just call you up whenever? Like, snap his fingers and have you jump to attention? You deserve way better than that wanker.”

Rae softened her posture. “Well, thank you for your concern, Finn, but I can make up my own mind about things, yeah?”

“Yeah, sorry. Shouldn’t have interfered.” He paused to chew the inside of his lip. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to go put on my combat boots—“

Finn perked up. “Those black ones with the … strappy bits?” But, wait, if she was wearing those for Richard … he didn’t like where this was going. He cleared his throat and asked in as nonchalant a tone as he could muster, “Think I remember those. And?”

“AND … I’m gonna put one of ‘em up his arse. He thought he was in there with this Miranda, but when he can’t pull her after dumping me, he thinks he can crawl back? No fuckin’ way. I should’ve cut him loose a long time ago, but I wanted to be in a better place when I did it.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Like, working at a magazine, living my dream, so he’d really feel like shit. Like, well … like … never mind.”

“No, like what?”

Rae fidgeted the end of her sleeves with her fingers. “Well, sometimes he made me feel like I wasn’t … y’know. Like I wasn’t worth the time or trouble. I just wanted to give him a taste of that before …”

Finn’s head felt like it was about to boil over. “He WHAT?” Finn threw the controller across the room. 

With wide eyes Rae held her hands up, “Whoa, what was that? It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal?!” Finn echoed. He looked up at Rae, and then struggled out of the bean bag to stand up. “I—I …” Now he was standing up, staring Rae in the eye, he couldn’t come up with a reason he was so mad. Not one he could yet articulate, at least. “I just … Stacey was the same. I know how it feels, and no one deserves that, especially not you.”

“Especially … not … me?” Rae echoed.

“Well, yeah. He’s a dick for what he did, and you’re right not to take it.” Finn looked away, feeling he’d said way too much, but found himself adding. “I, um, I could come with you. Y’know, for moral support.” He was vaguely aware that he really wanted to make sure she didn’t succumb to the twat’s charms and agree to take him back.

Rae turned away, and Finn worried she was upset at his suggestion. When she didn’t reply after another minute, Finn ventured, “Or, y’know, whatever.”

“I’m making some toast, do you want another slice?” Rae asked. 

“Uh, sure. Yeah.” Finn retrieved his controller and flopped back onto the bean bag.

“And, um, you can come along. Y’know, if you want. I mean, it might be nice to have some ‘moral support.’”

Finn smiled at the telly and unpaused his game, merrily shooting another zombie in the face.

* * * * *

Rae had a big smile on her face as she and Finn walked to the park. It was a beautiful late spring day; the sun was shining and there was a light breeze that lifted her already good spirits. That letter this morning, the one that wasn’t from Richard, it wasn’t a rejection, either. It was from Flaps and she had an interview next week. It was going to be a piece of piss to tell Richard to get back on the train and ride it into the English Channel now. She looked over at Finn with a grin, only to find him already smiling at her. 

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just pleased you’ve got an interview. Pleased you’re pleased, I guess.” He looked down at the pavement and Rae studied his profile for a moment. Both of them had stuck their hands in the jacket pockets, and their elbows jostled one against the other as they walked. But, for some reason, it didn’t feel weird, and Rae didn’t feel the need to apologize or move away. It was comfortable, friendly. This was nice. This was good. They’d be friends. 

Just as she’d decided that friends was enough, Finn slipped his hand through the crook of her elbow and linked arms with her. When she gave him a questioning look, he said, “Couldn’t stand them bumping together. This way, we avoid bruises.” He winked at her and she waited until he looked forward to allow herself a small smirk.

She pulled away as they approached the cafe, and Finn looked confused. “I told Richard we weren’t … you know. Which, we aren’t, of course! But, still, don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” She wasn’t sure what the right idea was, either, but she didn’t want Richard to be vindicated in his bad opinion of Finn. It wasn’t because of Finn they had broken up; it was because Richard wanted to get off with some third year. True, she hadn’t been entirely faithful to Richard, but she’d had the decency to keep her wandering to practically anonymous one-night stands. Mini-flings that more than anything served to make her feel like she was desirable to someone somewhere, even if it was a drunkard in a Ford Cortina down the back of an alley.

She shook her head, clearing her mind of the jumble of thoughts. She opened the door to the cafe, and it felt like everything slowed down, like it was a film playing at half speed. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder in a dramatic sweep, adjusting the lapels of her leather jacket confidently as she strode toward Richard, who sat there, glasses askew, with crumbs from his scone in the corners of his mouth.

Sitting down, she noted that Richard’s mouth was slightly agape, and he adjusted he chunky black frames as he started to speak. “Rae! H-hiya! You’re a little early!” He half-stood to lean forward and peck her on the cheek. She grimaced as he sat back down, and picked up a napkin to wipe her cheek. “Crumbs,” she explained. He frantically began wiping his mouth and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Finn pull up a chair to join them. 

Richard froze, and then looked at Rae with the look of a hurt puppy. Rae shrugged and said, “This is Finn, my roommate.”

Finn nodded tersely and held out his hand. Richard used the napkin he’d been wiping his mouth with to dust the crumbs off his fingers before offering one to shake. Afterwards, Finn wiped his hand on his baggy corduroys. 

The three of them sat in an awkward silence for a minute or two, until Rae broke it with, “So, what’s up, Richard? I just got your letter this morning, so I thought I’d better come, since you’d have to set off pretty early.”

“Well, I—look, is he going to be here for this? I thought … I wanted to talk to you properly. Privately.”

“Richard, the time for proper, private chats is over. You broke up with me. I was a little sad at first, maybe taken aback, but you were right. We’ve grown apart. It was the right thing to do.”

“Yes, I mean, maybe, but—“

“What kind of scone is that?”

This caught him off-guard. “What? Um, plain?”

“Is that raspberry jam? And clotted cream?”

Richard looked down at his plate, confused. “Uh, yeah?”

“Ooh, I haven’t had a proper scone in ages. I’m getting one. Finn, do you want one?” She stood up and Finn rose to join her, asking Richard, “Did you want anything else, mate?”

Richard just shook his head, dazed and Rae knew he was watching them as they went up to the counter to place their order. 

“How d’ya think it’s going?” Finn whispered.

“Brilliant! I wasn’t going to let him worm his way back in, but as soon as I saw him, I knew. He’s … just … I don’t know. He isn’t a terrible person or disgusting human being. He’s just not right for me.” Saying the words out loud made it feel even truer.

Finn nodded, and Rae thought she might have glimpsed a ripple of relief cross his face. Well, he had said he thought she deserved better.

Finn tried to pay for hers, but Rae gave him three quid that she’d put aside. She kept finding pound coins in the street outside their house, and saved them up for treats like this. Found money was meant to be spent on clotted cream.

When they got back to the table and settled into their seats, Finn started to pull the cozy off the teapot, but Rae stopped him. “It hasn’t been three minutes; let it steep in peace.”

“Since when are you more patient than me?” Finn scoffed.

“Tea deserves patience; I bet your dad would agree.”

Finn laughed. “He would that.”

Richard stood up. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry, Rae.”

Rae squinted in confusion. He’d rode three hours on the train, and another half an hour on the Tube and he was leaving after five minutes? 

“I am glad I got to see you one last time, though. I hope you have a nice life, truly. Good luck with your career and … well, everything.” He leaned over to hug her.

“Uh, thanks, Richard. You, too.” Rae patted his shoulder lightly, and when he let go, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving Finn a long look that seemed weirdly significant. 

“Bye, Rae. Bye, Finn.” Richard walked out of the cafe and out of Rae’s life.

* * * * *

Finn watched Richard’s figure retreat. That look had sent chills down his spine. Like, he couldn’t explain it, but it was this weird transfer of energy or something. On their walk to the cafe, Finn had been gearing up to tell Richard off, or at least back Rae up in her refusal to get back with him, but he hadn’t had to do any of that. It was a little deflating, but Finn was also relieved he didn’t have to get into a conflict about Rae, when Rae was insisting they were just friends. But she hadn’t even said friend in his introduction; she’d just said roommate. You don’t have to be friends with your roommates. But they were friends, weren’t they? Jesus, he felt like a fucking teenager.

As he was brooding about the meaning of introductions, Rae had poured them each a cup of tea and plopped two lumps of sugar and a dash of cream into each. “Here ya go,” she said as she slid the saucer holding the cup over to him. 

She stirred her own tea and then took a sip. “Mmmm, Earl Grey. Decadence!” Then she set about constructing the perfect scone: slicing the scone in half, carefully spreading the jam and adding a dollop of cream before setting the other half back on the top. She picked it up and took a bite, closing her eyes as she savored it. Finn realized he must be staring when she opened her eyes and her hand flew in front of her mouth. She set the rest of the scone down and swallowed her bite, looking guilty.

Finn focused on his cup of tea and took a sip, and as he did, the sun moved to such a pitch in the sky that it shone directly in his face. It was at that comically over the top moment that realization dawned in him, as well as on him. She was self-conscious about eating in front of people. It took him nearly a month of knowing her and two weeks of co-habitating to figure it out, but there it was. The only meal he’d ever witnessed was breakfast, and she managed to take bites when he was engrossed in his comic or looking the other way.  That was the first bite he’d ever seen her take and he felt a strange sense that he’d walked in on her changing.

“Hey, that looks amazing. D’ya think you could … help me with mine?” Maybe if he distracted her, she’d forget about feeling embarrassed. 

She swallowed and nodded. “Sure, but it’s not much of a talent.”

“Maybe not where you come from, but scones were a rare sighting in my house. We’re more roll-of-storebought-biscuit folk. Even my nan, as wonderful as she was, didn’t bake.”

Rae followed the same steps to create Finn’s tower of scone. “See, that’s a shame. I love baking. It’s like, I dunno. You take all these base ingredients, which aren’t much on their own, but combine them in the right way, add a little heat, and … god I sound so stupid.”

Finn sighed. “You really don’t.” He took the scone and held it up. “It’s like, a work of art. Almost too pretty to eat.” He gave Rae a devilish look. “ALMOST.” He held his scone aloft. “C’mon. Let’s toast.”

“Toast a scone? That’s carbohydrate overload.”

“Har har.” He nodded at Rae to pick up her scone. She rolled her eyes, but complied. “Okay, then. Now … oh! Okay. To new beginnings!” Finn said, thinking about Rae’s job interview. 

Rae smiled sheepishly and mumbled “To new beginnings” in reply. 

And then, they each took a big bite.


	9. Something to Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird when your potential new boss looks exactly like a younger version of your mum.

Finn chewed his cereal as he raptly watched Rae scurry between the loo and her room. Her hair was thrown up in to a towel and she wore her sturdy pastel striped robe. She left her door open just a crack so she could be heard as she shouted, “I couldn’t sleep for thinkin’ of what I should wear, and what I should say … how I should act! And I still don’t know!”

“You’ll be fine!” Finn shouted back, between mouthfuls. 

“You don’t know that! I don’t know if I’ve EVER been fine, to be painfully honest.”

Finn furrowed his brow. “You’re—well, how about ‘fine enough’? Fine is a surprisingly hard state of being to achieve.”

“And even harder to maintain!” Rae giggled to herself.

She came out in a strange linen pantsuit that made her look like a cross between a dowager and an explorer. Seeing Finn’s face, Rae winced. “Too … what? Too frumpy, right?” 

Finn tipped his head from side to side a few times, not unlike a metronome, and then nodded. “I think it might be. You look like Thor Heyerdahl. All you need is a pith helmet to complete the look.”

“Okay, I’m changin’!” Rae shouted as she headed back into her room. “That is a VERY obscure reference, by the way.”

Finn grinned around his cereal. After a beat, he decided to ask “Why do you even OWN that outfit?” as he was genuinely curious.

“My mum bought it for me at a jumble sale … She buys me anything that looks like it might fit!”

Finn re-furrowed his brow at this. Rae was always talking as if she were some impossibly large monolith … she wasn’t. But he didn’t want to press the issue. “Well, isn’t this magazine for young women on the go … with somethin’ to say? Or somethin’ like that?”

Rae poked her head around her door frame and asked, “How d’ya know that?” with a tone of suspicion.

Finn looked up and could see the curve of her shoulder peeking from behind the doorframe He knew she wasn’t wearing that khaki top any longer, seeing her bra strap. It was a sort of a greeny-blue. What was that called? Turquoise, maybe. He shook his head, realizing he was distracted and staring. “Huh? I dunno. I think maybe you must’ve told me. I do listen to some of the stuff you bang on about.”

Rae pulled her head back into her room and grumbled something Finn couldn’t quite hear.

“What?” he amplified.

“Well, then, what do YOU think I should wear?” Rae asked, exasperation evident in her voice.

Finn thought for a moment. Rae’s wardrobe was bewilderingly eclectic. She had your standard jeans and t-shirts, but she also had all of these oddments, which he now realized must have been cobbled together from the cast-offs of middle-aged women that her mother bought at jumble sales. That strange pink satin bed-jackety thing; that threadbare kimono; that awful linen suit.

Finn stood up, put his bowl in the sink and walked over to Rae’s door, which was still open a crack. He knocked tentatively. 

Rae yelped. “Shit-bugger-bollocks, you scared me!”

“Can I come in?” Finn asked. 

“Hang on, let me get my robe.” The word  _shame_  floated across Finn’s mind, and he shook his head. “Okay, I’m decent!” she trilled.

Finn pushed her door open and scanned her room, which looked like a jumble sale staging ground. He was greeted by the sight of clothes strewn on every surface, with yet more garments crowded on hangers in her closet.

“Your wardrobe is …”

“Impressive?”

“That’s one word for it. Not the one I was thinking of, but …”

Rae put a hand on her hip and asked, “What do you meeeean?”

“I meeeean, how do you find anything?”

“I don’t, mostly.”

Finn scanned the closet for things that looked … he hated to use the word  _normal_ , but … less quirky? Neutral? He sighed and then spotted a flash of bright blue. He stepped forward to pull the item out and inspect it. It turned out to be a dress. 

“What about this?” he asked.

Rae squinted at it. “Oh, I forgot I even had that! Wore it to a rave yonks ago. D’ya think it’d be okay for an interview?”

“At a magazine called FLAPS? Yeah, I think it’ll be okay. Just … y’know. Maybe don’t wear your Converse.”

Rae rolled her eyes. “FINE, I guess.” She leaned down to look for something, then got on all fours and crawled into the back of the closet. Finn had to look away from her arse; all of a sudden he must have gotten a piece of dust in his eye. Well, something was making them water. “Ah HA!” She backed up, holding a pair of chunky black boots. “These oughta do, eh?” They were the combat boots, one of which she said she was going to put up Richard’s arse, but hadn’t needed to. They were … they made Finn feel a little funny. 

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Those look like they have something to say all on their own.” He smiled weakly and then turned. “I should let you get ready.”

“Thanks, Finn!” Rae trilled after him. 

Finn was supposed to be at work in fifteen minutes, but he lingered near the door, wanting to see the finished look. He was pulling his knit cap over his hair when Rae’s door opened. He turned around and saw her slink out, head down. She had donned a pair of black leggings, of which you could see about six inches, from where the hem of the dress ended and the top of the boots began. He looked her up and down while she wasn’t looking at him, and bit the inside of his lip to stop a smile spreading across his face.

“Whaddya think?” she mumbled.

“You’ll smash ‘em,” Finn declared, confidently. 

Rae looked up, narrowing her eyes as she scanned Finn’s face for signs he was winding her up. 

He held his hands up. “Honest!” 

Rae grabbed her leather jacket, pulling it on quickly. Her arm got stuck halfway down one of the sleeves and she looked confused. Pulling her hand out, she found there was a tartan scarf inside it. “Lose somethin’?” she asked pointedly. 

Finn looked up and saw the scarf dangling between her fingers. “Oh, sorry!” He reached out to take it from her. “I must’ve just shoved it anywhere when I was cleaning out my bag the other day. Gettin’ a little warm for it.” 

Rae snatched it closer. “Actually … d’ya mind if I borrow it?” She held it next to her outfit and there was a line in the pattern that exactly matched the blue of her dress.

“Uhhh, sure, I guess,” Finn withdrew his hand, and didn’t know what to do with it, so he instinctively tried to run it through his hair, but when he found his cap already in place, he sort of rubbed the top of his head bizarrely. Rae didn’t seem to notice, though, as she tied the scarf jauntily around her neck.

When she was satisfied, she looked up with a grin and said, “Thanks, mate! I’ll lend you somethin’ of mine sometime.”

Finn froze, taken aback. “Wh-why would I wanna borrow somethin’ of yours?” he asked in a lilting tenor that betrayed him. He cleared his throat, hoping that would deepen his voice again.

“I’ve seen you eyeing some of my band t-shirts … you cannot deny my superior music sensibilities, especially as regards apparel.”

Finn scoffed. “I—“ He realized if he told her he didn’t think much of her musical taste that a) he’d be lying and b) she might work out that what he’d ACTUALLY been eyeing were her considerable endowments behind the band logos. So he just coughed and said, “Yeah. You’ve been to some mint concerts,” as he he turned to leave. He could use a moment to clear his head, but Rae grabbed her bag and breezed past him out the door.

“Oh, are ya goin’ now? Thought your interview wasn’t until eleven?” Finn ran to catch up with her.

“I’ve got to go to the cornershop and flick through the papers. What if they ask me about current affairs? They’re ALWAYS asking about shite like that. If they ask, “What do you think about the current state of affairs, Rae?” I can’t very well say, “What do  _I_  think about current affairs? Well, I like them. I think they’re good.” She shook her head as they walked to the front gate. They floundered for a moment at the gate, neither one sure who should go first. Finally, Finn pushed it open and gestured for Rae to go first. Then he jogged to catch up with her, grasping his skateboard in his left hand.

Rae glanced over at him, a worried look in her eye. “You really think I’ll be alright? This is something I really want, or at least, what I think I really want. If I don’t …”

Finn sensed she was starting to think about all the ways the interview could go wrong, so he piped up with “Hey, how about we meet at the cafe after your interview? Sort of … post-mortem it? I’ll buy you a cuppa.” 

Rae raised an eyebrow at him, like she was thinking about it, but could use further inducement.

“Alright, AND a biscuit.”

“Okay, deal,” Rae agreed.

They were now at the corner. Finn stuck his hand out to shake Rae’s. “Good luck today, soldier.”

Rae looked at his hand before she shook it, then stood at attention and saluted farewell as she walked into Mr. Singh’s cornershop. 

Finn shook his head, grinned, dropped his board, and skated off in the direction of Fantasy Music Bazaar. 

* * * * *

Rae was nervous, chewing the inside corner of her lip while she jiggled her right leg and drummed the fingers of her left hand on the arm of the leatherette sofa in the too bright waiting area. The magazine offices were set up in an old loft, with a lot of partition walls and cheap glass block breaking up the space. The woman sitting next to her was so put together; her dark skin was smooth and perfect and she wore a gold shirt under her suit jacket that was the exact color to make her glow. She was probably Rae’s age or maybe a couple of years older, but she just looked like she had LIVED. Traveled the world, had dozens of affairs, broken even more hearts, just … cool. 

The woman calmly flicked through a magazine, then swiftly and elegantly reversed the crossing of her legs. Rae admired her shoes; they were that perfect mix of edgy and functional, with a chunky heel that made Rae want to curl her toes under making her now-ridiculous-feeling boots disappear. Rae couldn’t decide if she wanted to be called in for her interview before or after this capable goddess. The goddess seemed to realize Rae was staring at her and arranged her features in the approximation of a smile. 

“Sorry, hi,” Rae mumbled. “I—I’m just nervous. I’m Rae, by the way.”

“Sheila,” she replied.

“Are you here for the—“ Rae didn’t get to finish her question when a woman with a clipboard came out and barked her name. 

“Rae Earl?”

She shot out of her seat so fast she banged her shin on the decorative coffee table, which was a heavy glass top laid over a wire basket filled with dismantled mannequins. “Fffff …” she didn’t finish the word that followed that fricative, but instead ventured, “That’s me!” with a wincing grin.

“Follow me, please.” Over her shoulder she said, “Sheila we’ll be with you in just a mo’, yeah? Did Sarah offer you a tea or coffee?” 

Rae turned back, bewildered to see Sheila nodding. “She did, but I’m off tannins this month.”

“Oh, sorry, love! We’ll make sure to have herbal on hand next time.” Her smile faded as she said to Rae, “In here.”

Rae had been looking back at Sheila and nearly walked into the doorframe. She veered just in time and grazed her shoulder on it. 

“Take a seat.”

She stumbled and dropped into a sofa identical to the one in the lobby area, but this one was shoved into the small room, along with another across the way. On that sofa were three sober faced women in their early thirties, and the one in the center looked disturbingly like her own mum. So much so that she squinted and unknowingly leaned forward, trying to get a closer view.

The woman scanned her clipboard. “Rae, is it? As in Rae-mond? Or will you be our Rae of sunshine?” She laughed at herself, the women on either side joining in. 

“Sorry, we like to keep things light around here. That is, unless, we’re being deadly serious.” She looked up with a penetrating stare for a split second, before consulting her clipboard again. “I’m Yolanda, editor-in-chief.” Gesturing to her right, she continued. “This is Tracy, our stylist.” Tracy flipped her dyed-blonde hair and twisted her red slash of a mouth into a wry smile. Yolanda nodded to her other side. “This is Katharine, head of marketing.” Katharine’s curly head bobbed in greeting with business-like efficiency. 

“You’ve already met Sarah, who’s Administration, and the position you’re applying for would require you to work closely with Melissa and Elizabeth, who are out gathering material for features for our first edition, which we’re hoping to get out by the end of next month. Have you seen our launch campaign?”

Rae leaned forward, inhaled sharply, and said, “Yyyes.”

A pointed group-stare followed from the crew. “Well, what did you think of it?”

“I quite liked it. I thought it was eye-catching, well, it caught my eye!” Rae chuckled at her own non-joke.

“What specifically?” More stares. 

“Wellll, I mean … it was so …” She couldn’t even really remember the ad, other than it was orange. “… colorful. Bold, I mean. And it just sort of … DEMANDS your attention. You know?”

Yolanda ticked something on her clipboard.

“We’re aiming at the 20 to 30-something young woman who is on the go and has something to say …” Rae pursed her lips, trying not to laugh, thinking of Finn remembering that bit. “So, let me ask you … do you consider yourself post-feminist?”

Rae wanted to scoff.  _Post-feminist?_  Like they weren’t needed anymore or something. She coughed instead. “Excuse me. I …”

“Let me put it another way, do you drink shots or pints?”

With every question, Rae was feeling less and less sure she understood what this magazine was trying to do. “Well, I will drink a pint, I mean, I DO drink pints, but I’ll sometimes have a gin and tonic, at a wedding or …”

Yolanda ticked something else on her sheet, while Tracy and Katharine exchanged a meaningful glance behind her back. 

“Okay, then, thanks for coming in. It’s been very … useful.” A smile that didn’t reach her eyes crossed Yolanda’s face, and Rae stood up, feeling a curious mix of disappointment and relief. And then, from out of nowhere she said, “You know, I’m actually quite smart and capable.”

“I’m sure you are, dear. We have a lot of other people to see, and we’ll—“ 

“But, what’s  _more_ , I can take the blame like nobody’s business. If you’re looking for someone who can jump in with the first pretty bad idea, so that your ideas seem brilliant by comparison … or to take the fall when something goes horribly awry, well … I hope you’ll consider me for that.”

Rae turned to shimmy out the narrow room and was staring Sheila in the eye when she heard Yolanda say, “Hang on, we may have something for you …”

* * * * *

“You really said that?” Finn asked as he slid into his chair opposite Rae at the cafe while simultaneously sliding Rae’s cup of tea across to her.

“Yeah! I figured, I didn’t have anythin’ to lose at that point, so I just … laid my cards on the table.”

“But, you don’t … do you really feel that way?” Finn furrowed his brow as he sipped his coffee.

“Feel what way?”

“Like you should take the blame for stuff? Even if it’s not your fault?”

“Oh, well, I mean … I suppose I do feel pretty perpetually apologetic. Like, I take up too much room and always feel like it’s my fault if someone bumps into me because I shouldn’t have been there to bump into? Or like, I should have been smaller? I don’t think I’m saying this right.” Rae tapped her spoon nervously against the saucer under her cup. She wouldn’t meet Finn’s eye, as if she realized she’d said too much. Finn was just about to say something about it, when she looked up, past him, out the window of the cafe and smiled. “Awwww, that dog is so cute!” she exclaimed. Finn twisted in his seat to see what she was talking about and Rae tsked. “You missed it, sorry.”

She sipped her tea and as she set the cup back down said, “I just realized I always sit this side when we come here. You wanna switch? I’ve been hogging the view.” 

Finn looked at her for a moment, then said, “Nah, that’s okay. The view’s alright from where I’m sitting.” He picked up his cup and took a gulp of coffee, trying not to look too pleased with himself as her face flushed with color. 

Just then, the bell on the door tinkled as a pair walked in, already in conversation. “—don’t think they’d be interested. Well, Finn wouldn’t, and are we ready to—“ The voice cut itself off, and Finn turned to see who was talking about another Finn, only to see Archie standing there with Chop.

Rae nodded at them, “Hey, there! What are you two doing here … and together? Finn, you didn’t tell me these two had become friends!” 

Finn shook his head slowly in disbelief. “I—I didn’t know.”

Finn felt terrible; he’d been preoccupied and hadn’t talked to Chop in almost a week. He stood up to move over and let them sit with them when he finally noticed. They were holding hands.


	10. Murder Your Hair with Peroxide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea for it has been swirling around my brain for weeks and weeks and it didn’t exactly turn out how I planned it, but I could rework it forever, so I’m just posting it.

Finn felt odd. Not … uncomfortable, necessarily. Maybe just dumb for not having noticed his best mate was gay. Bi? He knew it didn’t matter, but he and Archie were standing right in front of him, holding hands. And when he tried to catch his eye, Chop wouldn’t look up at him.

“So, how long has this been goin’ on?” He mumbled the question.

Chop and Archie looked at each other, eyes wide. “Well, uh …” they both started, then stopped to let the other one go on.

Finally, Chop cleared his throat, adjusted his tinted aviators and said, “Since the morning after your party.” He gave Archie a fond look that was reciprocated, and Archie chuckled. “Yeah, I was still drunk enough to make a move when he was taking my glasses off.”

“Oi, those were  _my_  glasses, Archer. I was just gettin’ ‘em back off ya!”

Archie smirked. “So you say.”

Finn glanced over at Rae, who was grinning so wide he could see her gums, her hands clasped together, looking at the new couple with delight.

 

“Anyway,” Archie said, blatantly changing the subject. “What’s goin’ on here, then? You two making things official, are you?”

“What?” Rae asked loudly. “No, we’re just mates, as well you know. Finn’s not like that. And, anyway, no fair changing the topic of conversation!”

Finn blinked in confusion. She was so adamant that they weren’t anything but friends. Maybe he should take a fucking hint. 

“Hmmm, sure,” Archie said, narrowing his eyes. 

Finn cleared his throat. “What were you guys talkin’ about when ya came in? What wouldn’t I be interested in?”

Chop looked down at his feet. “Y’heard that, did ya?”

“Well, I heard my name, and y’know, tuned in, I guess.”

Archie took a deep breath. “I’ve got a show! It’s actually an installation at the same gallery Vulva’s doing her performance art piece in. Same night. So, I was thinking I’d invite you two …”

“Thing is,” Chop interrupted, waving an apology at Archie as he continued. “We ran into your mate Danny, an’ there’s a rave the same night at a club near Notting Hill.”

“So? We can do both,” Finn said with a shrug.

“Oh, ‘we’ is it?” Archie replied with a smirk.

Finn glanced over at Rae, whose eyes suddenly went wide. He cleared his throat and muttered, “Well, yeah. The four of us. We.” 

Rae visibly relaxed and sat forward, leaning over her cup of tea with excitement. “Yeah, the rave can be, like, a celebration of your show, Archie!”

“ _And_  of your new job, Rae!” Finn said, raising his coffee cup in a solitary toast.

“What’s this, now?” Archie asked. 

Rae blushed. “Oh, nothin’. I just bluffed my way into making tea for a magazine.” Finn shook his head at her self-deprecation.

“Congratulations are in order, young lady.” Chop held up his hand to salute her and Archie patted her shoulder. Finn caught her eye for a moment, before she blushed and looked away.

* * * * *

Finn sat in the armchair by the window, sketching an album cover for his imaginary band. It was, like, he had all these great ideas, and he even acted on some of them. He drew all the time, had written about a dozen songs, even storyboarded two comics, but he wasn’t as good at finishing things. Or showing anyone the stuff he’d done. Because he was afraid he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t not do the things he loved to do, but he was afraid of failing at any of them in a public way. So, he stayed busy, and broke, skating along at the Bazaar.

He chewed on the end of his pencil for a moment, musing about his cowardly form of creativity, when he felt a hand in his hair, fingers running along his scalp. God, that was nice. 

“So, you bleach your hair  _how_  often, exactly? Only the very tips are blond anymore. You should re-do it or get a haircut.” Rae had a thatch of his hair between her finger and thumb and Finn looked up out of instinct. She drew her hand away and he cursed himself. All he could manage was a shrug. 

“Yeah, guess I should …” his words faded out, because he wasn’t sure what he should do. Rae ruffled his hair for good measure and walked over to the fridge. 

“Well, if you want any help … I used to help Chlo—sorry, Twist—dye her hair, before her mum decided she should go to the salon.” Finn heard the fridge door thud shut, bottles of ketchup and brown sauce clinking dully against each other inside. He thought he might have heard wrong, but his heart stopped for a minute, anyway. 

“Yeah? I—that’d be good. I guess I really need another person to help me with it.” He twisted around and saw Rae take a bite of raw carrot. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Rae chewed and swallowed before answering. “Nah, wouldn’t have offered if I minded.” She smiled at him and took another crunch of carrot.

“Alrigh’, then!” He turned back to his drawing, and really looked at it.  _Shit._  It was Rae again. He flipped the page over to reveal a blank page and let the point of his pencil hover over the blank expanse for a few seconds before closing the whole book. Rae looked up, confused. “You done with your picture?” 

_Shitbuggerbollocks_ , Finn thought. Had she seen what he was drawing when she was playing with his hair? “Uhh, yeah. I mean, for now.” He stood up and walked over to his room, securely stowed the sketchbook in his desk drawer, and then pulled the door shut behind him as he came back to the living room. Rae sat at her typewriter, but there wasn’t a piece of paper in the roller. 

“You, uh, busy?” Finn asked.

“Mmmm? Nah. Never busy. Just whiling away the hours until I have to go to sleep, then get up and go to work at a place that I hate and that hates me right back.” She said all of this absent-mindedly, without a hint of malice in her voice, all the while waving her half-eaten carrot in a figure-eight.

“Shiiit,” Finn muttered aloud. He thought that sounded pretty dire.

“Huh?” Rae turned around to look at him. 

“Nothin’, never mind. I just—wondered if you’d wanna come with me to the store. Help me pick out some hair stuff.”

Rae put her hands on the table and pushed herself up to stand. “Yeah! Yeah, sounds good! Let me jus’ get my jacket.” She threw the rest of her carrot in the sink and disappeared into her room for a moment, reappearing with her leather jacket. “Let’s do this!”

* * * * *

Rae was glad of an occupation for her brain. She’d been thinking about her work problem for days now. She couldn’t complain; she’d given them the terms at the outset. She’d signed on for being the scapegoat, the one to get dumped on. She just hadn’t realized they would take it so literally. It was a part-time job, at least. She was there for all permutations of staff meetings, to set up the conference room, take notes, make suggestions for the editors to shoot down, clean up after everyone left, and to type up and email everyone the minutes. 

She’d hoped that though she’d offered herself up as a martyr, that the magazine staff would take pity on her, that she could become part of the work family. That she’d become an asset just by being herself. Instead, the editors used her just as she asked, Sarah and the other office staff looked at her with scorn. The only person who was vaguely nice to her was Sheila, who would give her a chagrined smile as she left the conference room.

Rae was startled when she found herself walking into the corner shop. Her mind had been so preoccupied; she must have just ambled along next to Finn the whole way there. She glanced over at him, to find he was already looking at her with a concerned expression.

“You alright? You didn’t say a word on our way here. We don’t have to do this tonight, you know.”

“No, I want to! Sorry, just … a lot on my mind. Let’s see what they’ve got.”

The corner shop wasn’t really the best place for this sort of thing. The only hair bleach they had was two years out of date, and even Finn wasn’t willing to try it.

“Well, we can leave it for another time.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, kicking his leg out to propel himself towards the exit. 

“No, wait! We can try that Boots a few streets away.” Rae hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow and dragged him down the street. After half a block, she seemed to remember herself. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled as she let him go. 

“You’re alright, don’t worry abou’ it,” Finn said, this time hooking her arm with his as they ambled along. She looked down to see the point where they were connected—her leather jacket rubbing against the fabric of his hoodie. She’d grabbed his arm without thinking, but he seemed to deliberately choose to link himself to her. She glanced up at him for a second, only to find him looking at her with a smile, so she looked down at the ground, smiling at her shoes.

The Boots was blindingly bright inside; it made Rae’s eyes ache. She blinked a few times and squinted to find the hair dye aisle. Finn got distracted and ended up looking at the comics near the front. When she found it, she put her hand up and shouted, “Oi!”

Finn dropped the magazine he’d been looking at back on the display rack and legged it to join her. 

Rae waved her hand at the bleach kits. “Which one d’ya think?” 

“Hmmm, I dunno.” Finn picked one up off the shelf, featuring a woman with a sleek platinum bob and shocking red lipstick. He studied the back of the package, pursing his lips thoughtfully, while Rae took this opportunity to study him. He really was … quite something. Handsome in an unassuming way. If he cleaned himself up a bit, made an effort to buy a few clothes that actually fit him, he’d probably have them lining up around the block for him. Rae shook her head and turned to pick up her own box, looking for a distraction, an excuse to look away from his stupidly attractive face. 

“This one seems alrigh’, I guess.” Finn lifted the box in the air and shrugged. 

Rae nodded. “Okay. Do you have conditioner at the flat?”

Finn blinked at her.

She sighed. “I do, never mind. You just, you need to wash and condition your hair after the bleach.”

Finn nodded, “Okay, sounds good.”

He plunked down four pound fifty for the kit and they trudged home together, hands stuffed in jacket pockets, elbows bumping together the whole way. 

* * * * *

Back at the flat, Finn changed into one of his most threadbare t-shirts, one he didn’t care if it was ruined by bleach. Part of her wished that he just kept his t-shirt off entirely, but she was worried that he’d catch her staring at him, so it was better that he was covered by a wafer-thin Blur shirt.

At the kitchen table, Rae pulled on the gloves from the kit, and then realized she should read the instructions. She read to herself, muttering now and again. “ … apply to the ends of the hair first … do scalp last … work in sections …” She scanned the page to the end and read, “Oh, it says here you might have to reapply after a week, if it’s not the shade you want.” Finn shrugged and nodded in response. 

“Okay, then … after you,” Rae gestured to the bathroom door, and Finn shot up to open it. Inside, the two of them stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure where they should be. The space was very small, and they were facing each other, but not meeting each other’s eyes. Finally, Rae cleared her throat and said, “I think you should sit here,” gesturing to the toilet, where the lid was down, sheathed in a fuzzy olive cover.  

“Sure,” Finn breathed, perching on the lid. Rae pulled the gloves tighter on each hand, the cuff snapping against her wrists. She felt like a doctor about to perform surgery, and giggled. Finn laughed, too, and the tension between them abated a bit.

Rae opened the kit and mixed the powder and developer together in a metal mixing bowl, making a mental note to leave the bowl in the bathroom. She set the bowl on the edge of the sink, making sure it wasn’t going to fall, and then ran her hand over Finn’s hair, from back to front, looking for a spot to start. Finn’s eyes closed and he didn’t open them again. From where she was standing, Rae could see his face in the mirror over the sink. She took the brush and started to apply the bleach, leaving a little space near the roots. She’d go back and do a second pass. As she worked, she concentrated more on the task at hand and less on Finn (and the fact that her chest was pressed against his shoulder). She did notice when he leaned forward, resting his crossed forearms on his lap. She figured he was just getting tired of sitting still. 

When she finished and they waited for the bleach to do its thing, the pair sat in silence. Rae was now sitting on the fuzzy toilet lid cover, while Finn perched on the edge of the tub. Rae had set the egg timer and they listened to the rickety ticking echoing around the tiny room, off of the mirror and the tiles and the pebbled glass door. 

Suddenly, Finn frowned and asked, “What did you mean when you said “Finn’s not like that”?” His tone sounded offhanded and absentminded in that way someone who  _wants_  to sound offhanded and absentminded does.

Rae was a bit taken aback and could only muster a, “Huh?” in reply.

“The other day, when we were talking to Chop and Archie, you said, “Finn’s not like that”. Not like what?” 

Rae raked her upper teeth across her lower lip. What should she say? What did he want her to say? That he was too delicious and she was just a blob with a gob? That if, and it was a big if, but IF he felt anything for her, it was just because she was there, handy, easy. Not that way, but … why not that way? Shit. He could see the wheels of her mind whirring away. She had to say something and that something was, “Oh just, y’know, like, you’re gettin’ over Stacey and I’m gettin’ over Richard and … like, it’s so borin’, right? Manufactured sexual tension just because we live together? It’s nice to not have to worry about that sort of thing, yeah?” She wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but she knew she had to say something. Because she’d said that thing about Finn at the cafe so fast, a knee-jerk reaction to beat the reaction she feared from him. She had been so sure he was going to say the same thing, and she had to get there first, to save herself hearing it.

Finn furrowed his brow, but nodded. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what I thought you meant. Just checkin’.” He bit his lower lip, mirroring Rae. “Of course … I’m pretty much over Stacey. I haven’t thought about her in ages.” He glanced over at Rae. “You … you still gettin’ over Richard?”

Rae contemplated his question seriously. They hadn’t even really been dating for the last eight months of their relationship. They never saw each other and she almost never had credit on her mobile, so they just sort of emailed each other, sending dumb forwards along with LOLs and smileys, any connection they had growing weaker and weaker until they floated so far away from the other there wasn’t any getting back. She almost hadn’t recognized him when they met for tea on Hampstead Heath. He certainly hadn’t stirred any longings in her to still be an item.

She sighed. “No, I guess not. We … we hadn’t really been together for a while.” 

Finn cleared his throat like he was going to say something, but when he didn’t, Rae looked at him expectantly. “Oh!” he said. “Nothin’, just … that’s good.”

“That’s good?” she wondered aloud.

“Well, yeah. Just that, y’know, you’re not hung up on him, or whatever. That’s, like, generally a good way to be, right?” He shifted his seat on the edge of the tub. 

Rae allowed herself a small smile. “Sure, I guess you’re right.” She wasn’t sure what was making him more uncomfortable: his position or their conversation. She also wasn’t sure what she felt about that, but it was certainly interesting.

* * * * *

“Right, then,” Rae said, standing up and rubbing her gloved hands together. “Let’s get you rinsed and conditioned.” 

Finn sighed. This was the most exquisite torture. Being this close, having her hands in his hair, but he’d already had to lean forward to hide a semi. Now that he was supposed to be leaning back over the sink, with Rae leaning over  _him_ , with her ample … right at eye level … fuck … how was he going to disguise any compromising situations that might … arise? 

After a minute of trying to figure out logistics, Rae said, “Change of plan, move to the tub. Even you, Mr. Fit, would probably pull something trying to balance your head under the taps. It’ll be a little awkward, but less uncomfortable.” Finn shrugged, trying to hide his smile at her calling him ‘Mr. Fit’, and turned to lean his head under the tub faucet. Rae leaned over to stop him. “Hang on, let’s run it for a minute so it’s a good temperature.”

Finn laughed. “You could work in a hairdresser’s.” His voice slid up the scale and his s’s were suddenly sibilant. “Is the temperature all right for you, Miss? How d’ya take your tea? Sweet?” 

Rae echoed his laughter, “Yeah, if this magazine lark doesn’t pan out … good to have a fallback position.” She stuck her hand under the running water. “Okay, that seems about right.” She looked between Finn and the tub. “You should probably just do this bit on your own. It’d be a squeeze for both of us, and I think you’ve washed your own hair before. At LEAST once or twice before today.”

“Oi!” He took the towel from around his neck and swatted it at her. 

She jumped back and goosed herself on the edge of the sink. “Ow! You’ll pay for that, Nelson! After I did you a favor and everything,” Rae shook her head in mock sadness, rubbing her backside.

“Pack it in,” Finn mumbled from under the taps. 

Rae laughed and said, “Don’t forget to condition. You don’t want to murder your hair with peroxide.” 

Finn twisted to look at her. “That’s what Stacey always called it.”

“Ah, but did you condition?”

Finn turned to give the bleach a final rinse, pulling his head out and reaching for the towel he’d thrown Rae’s direction. “No. Never had someone to tell me how to do it right before.” He looked up at the array of bottles lining the tub. “Which one … ?” 

Rae came over and plucked a light purple bottle out of the line-up. “This is my conditioner. You’ll smell like lilacs, but only for a day or two.”

Finn bit his lip. It would be a hell of a distraction, smelling like her for any amount of time, but he just shrugged. “Whatever.”

Rae mocked him with an exaggerated shrug of her own and mimics his “Whatever” with a deeper, dopier tone than she normally used. 

He stood there, holding the bottle, but not moving for a long minute, until Rae sighed and said, “Oh, just give it here, you slow coach.” She squeezed a dollop of conditioner on her hand and commanded him to “Turn around.” She massaged the hair cream into his hair and scalp and then reset the timer after rinsing her hands. “Give it a bit. At least five minutes.” 

Finn gave her a sheepish smile. He’d hoped his dithering would mean she did exactly what she ending up doing. 

Rae smirked at him. “Rinse it out when the timer goes. I’ll put on the kettle, yeah?” In a flash, she was out the door and Finn took a deep breath, the pungent scent of lilacs filling his nostrils.

* * * * *

That night, Finn lay in bed, head resting on his pillow, which was covered by the old hand towel Rad had given him to save his pillowcase from any lingering bleach. He ran his fingers through his hair, remembering how hers had done the same dozens of times, and sighed aloud. This wasn’t good. Not any good at all. More and more, he was having dreams and daydreams about Rae sleeping next to him, of him waking up to her soft dark hair inches from his face, his arm resting on the curve of her hip, just like that morning after their party. He’d imagined scenarios where burglars took her bed and the sofa, but left his bed because it was bigger and too heavy and they had to sleep in the same bed. Because he knew that she’d find a way to say no, even in a dream, unless he removed every other option in the flat. She’d probably say she could sleep in the armchair, rather than sleep next to him when she hadn’t had too much to drink or wasn’t under the scrutiny of their landlady.

He flopped over onto his other side, and looked at the wall the separated their rooms, willing it to dissolve. He was gone, and it was only going to get worse if he didn’t say something, do something. Because she wasn’t going anywhere, and he was pretty sure his feelings weren’t going to go anywhere, either. Just like the smell of lilacs.

* * * * *

In the next room, Rae lay awake, too, blinking into the dark. She felt strange, sort of muddled. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. In any area of her life, in any way. She thought she wanted to be a writer, to work for a magazine, but the bottom rung of that ladder was pretty rotten, and looked to be a long and rickety climb, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to embark on. But it was hard to give up on dreams. When you let one go, and don’t have another one waiting in the wings, that’s a lonely feeling.

And without the security blanket of Richard to go back to when things got tough, she didn’t know what to do about trying to find another boyfriend, or … Finn was right there. And the two of them seemed to get along so well … but she never trusted anything, and though they were getting along now, him asking her along to the store, her standing in the bathroom bleaching his hair as he flicked through  _Transmetropolitan_ , the two of them drinking mugs of tea while watching a DVD as his hair dried. That was all very cozy and though she found herself relaxing more and more around him, which would be a good thing for most people, but for Rae it meant she had to be worried. Worried it was all going to end. Worried he was moments away from figuring out how messed up she was. Worried she’d do something terminally weird. Finn knew she was weird, sure, but not just  _how_  weird she could be. 

She sighed, and flopped over on her stomach, hugging the pillow tight as she tried to fall asleep.


	11. Can of Worms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter pretty much accomplishes what I intended, and it feels fairly finished, so I’m just going to post it! (There will be more to the story, though, in case that was unclear.) The style is a little odd, there are flashback bits that I’m not sure are 100% clear and effective, but blahblahblah. I know. Too much preamble.

Finn caught his reflection in the supermarket’s sliding glass doors, and started at the blonde shock on his head. He still wasn’t used to being re-bleached. He hurried inside to do a quick shop before heading home. On his way, he reflected that things had quickly gone back to their version of normal after the momentary tension that seemed to surround the hair dyeing evening a couple days ago. Of course, normal also included Rae feeling like crap every day she worked at Flaps.

He pushed the door to the flat open with the hand that had turned the key in the lock, his other hand gripped onto three carrier bags full of shopping. The droning voice of John McCrea filled the flat. Rae was in a duvet cocoon on the sofa, simultaneously singing along to Cake and watching French & Saunders DVDs, telly volume on low. She’d watched them so often, she had most of the sketches memorized. There was a pile of soggy teabags on the plate next to Rae’s favorite mug.

“Oh, dear,” Finn said aloud. “Rough day?” He recognized the signs of over-coping.

“Mmmm?” Rae hummed questioningly, clearly in a tea-induced haze.

He dropped the bags of shopping on the counter, loudly, to wake Rae up a bit. “Done a bit of a shop,” he said, offhandedly.

She roused slightly, but didn’t get up. “Oh, um … great! I’ve been meanin’ to get a few things meself.”

Finn knew she’d been eating toast for breakfast, tea and dinner all week. “Haven’t they paid ya yet? Y’can borrow whatever ya need, y’know. Feel free.”

Rae was silent for a long moment. Finn glanced at the telly and saw it was one of the fake expert sketches they both liked so much. He decided to distract her for a bit.

“So, yeah, I, uh, just picked this stuff up at [the  _market_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xg2MTqV7Fvc).” He cleared his throat significantly.

Rae swung herself up to sit, hair mussed impressively for a moment before she smoothed it under her palm. “Oh, yeah?” she asked, the smallest of sly smiles creeping into the corner of her mouth. “I’m actually a bit of an  _expert_  on markets.”

“I  _thought_  you might be. That’s why we’ve invited you on the show, welcome.” He hoped he remembered how it went. “On the sofa at the moment, we have our financial expert, Rae Earl, who is going to be telling us about what is happening in the market today. Rae, what  _is_  happening in the market today?”

Rae gathered her blankets around her and looked up thoughtfully, “Well, in the market today, people are selling bananas, or apples, or plums. I noticed some other people selling huge canteens of cutlery, and  _some_  people were selling those little plastic flowers that dance. Have you seen them? They sort of go like this …” she bopped her head and shoulders around in a quirky dance and Finn had to bite his lip to keep from breaking, but couldn’t help smiling at her.

“What about in the  _financial_  market?” he asked, egging her on.

She stopped her dance, the smile fell from her lips as her face became a mask of mock-somberness. “Right. Well. At the  _moment_ , people are very nervous in the financial market, due to _money_.”

“I see. Having it or not having it?”

“Yes.” Rae nodded soberly.

“Mmmm. So, tell me, how should we be investing our money?”

She scrunched up her face in a guise of thoughtfulness. “Hmmm. Wisely, I think.”

“Really! If I were to invest my money in gold, for instance, what could I expect?” Finn opened the nearest carrier bag and popped the carton of milk in the fridge.

Rae sat up taller and said, “Well, for about ten to fifteen pounds, you could expect to afford a fine gold chain.”

Finn nodded as he put the bread by the toaster.

“If you’re prepared to spend an extra  _five_  pounds, you could get your initial, for instance for you it would be an F, in curly-swirly writing to hang on the chain. Or, perhaps, just a simple hoop earring.”

“I see, I see.” He nodded, unconsciously rubbing the closed up piercing on his earlobe before opening the box of PG Tips and decanting the tea-filled pyramids into the tin.

“I feel duty-bound to warn you, though, that if you’re looking for a very chunky identity bracelet with engraving on it …”

“Yes?” Finn asked, pausing in mock-alarm.

“… you’ll be paying upwards of FIFTY POUNDS for that in the market today.”

Finn couldn’t help but laugh at how well she mimicked Dawn French. “Well, yes. Word of warning there.” He cleared his throat to compose himself to set her up for his favorite line. “We have just got time for one last word of advice, I think.”

“A word from the city?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Okay, right. My word from the city today is …” She paused dramatically for full effect. “’Many a muckle makes a muckle.’”

Finn laughed out loud as he said, “Wise words indeed, thank you!”

Rae smiled and sat up even straighter, “Pleasure.” She started to stand up, and Finn, still shuddering with laughter said, “No, sit, sit, sit!”

Now Rae started laughing. “We’re still on air! And you missed out the whole bit about pension schemes.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll take my straight-man duties more seriously next time.” He shook his head, glancing at Rae out of the corner of his eye. “But  _are_  you okay?”

Rae set her mouth in a twisted line. She stood up, shedding one of the blankets on her way. “Yeah, I’m alrigh’. Better now! I haven’t had to watch dinnerladies yet, but it is next to the DVD, just in case I need it.”

“What music do you have to listen to that with? Not …” His eyes grew wide with apprehension.

“Well …” She shrugged uncomfortably.

“The Smiths?” he whispered.

Rae bit her lip and looked down at her shoes.

Finn sighed. “Hey, I get it. Media therapy is valid, but I feel like you’re using comfort television and sad music every night of the week.”

Rae nodded brusquely and walked the few steps over to the counter. “Need any help puttin’ this lot away?”

“Nah, I’m nearly done.” He leaned imperceptibly towards her just as she turned to flop into one of the kitchen chairs, sighing. The sigh that escaped his lips was equal parts relief and frustration. He’d nearly hugged her then. Rae had said, hadn’t she, that her family didn’t really hug each other much. He always felt so much better when he got a hug from his nan or his dad; hard to imagine growing up without that sort of comfort in one’s life. Maybe that’s why she’d turned to female comedians and moody music. To be fair, he got the music thing one-hundred percent.

Rae’s voice broke through his wandering thoughts. “And, anyway, you’re not … Jennifer isn’t the straightm— … person. She’s the gag setter-upper. Whole different thing. You can be just as funny setting something up as hitting it home. It’s how she and Dawn work together that’s really funny, y’know?” Rae mused, drinking the dregs of what Finn imagined must be cold tea, if the face she pulled after taking the sip were any indication.

“Yeah, sure, I can see that,” he conceded. “So, before me, who was your … gag setter-upper? Ol’ Dickie-boy?” He grimaced at the toaster, figuring she couldn’t see him with his back to her.

“Certainly not!” After soundly denouncing Richard, Rae pondered his question. “I can’t think. No one’s ever really indulged me like this before. I think you’ve really opened a can of worms here. You can try to put the lid back on, but …” She shook her head, laughing.

He looked down and consciously kept himself from turning around; not wanting to meet her eye, lest he give himself away. He allocated the rest of the groceries into the cupboards, then picked the kettle up off its base. “More tea?” he asked.

“You mean, ‘[more tea, VICAR?](https://youtu.be/-00uFa9ts44?t=2m25s)’” Rae quoted in response, her voice mock-deep, a goofy look on her face.

He shook his head, smiling. “Great, yeah, but do you actually want more tea?”

Rae nodded. “Gotta make some room, though.” She threw the duvet off her shoulders onto the chair and stood up to use the loo.

* * * * *

In the bathroom, Rae took a long look at herself in the mirror. “What are ya doin’?” she muttered to herself. “Goin’ ta work at a place ya hate an’ then mopin’ around the rest o’ the time?” She shook her head gravely at her reflection, ran a hand through her hair, and took a deep breath before she emerged.

Finn was pouring the hot water into their mugs and looked up. “Oh, hey, that stuff is tomorrow night, remember?”

“Stuff?” She tried to think. “Oh! Archie’s show and Danny’s rave thing, yeah.”

Finn poured a bit of milk in each mug, fished out the bags, and finished each tea off with a stir, handing Rae hers. “Y’still wanna go?” he asked, blowing on his mug before taking a tentative sip.

She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She had to DO something, and this was something. “Yes!” she shouted. Finn started, tea sloshing out of his mug. “Sorry, sorry. Yes,” she said in a quieter tone. “I need to get dressed up and out of this flat.”

Finn smiled at her as he wiped the drips of tea into his trousers. “Great! I think Chop’ll be able t’give us a ride in his van.”

“Oh, well, I’ll call Chl—Twist, see if she wants to come.” She turned to pick up the phone and heard Finn sigh behind her. “Somethin’ wrong?” she asked as she started to dial.

She glanced back to see him shaking his head. “No, nah. Jus’ … long day. Might take a quick nap before dinner.” On the way to his room, he stopped at the rack near the front door and put his hand in his coat pocket to pull out a roll of Jaffa Cakes. “Nearly forgot …” He shook the long box with a grin, and opened it, taking two and leaving the rest on the counter.

* * * * *

He picked up his mug and headed to his room, glancing back to see Rae gingerly pull a single Jaffa cake out of the box. He shook his head, smiling.

Inside his room, he shut the door with a click, and sighed again.

* * * * *

_Thirty-six hours later …_

Rae stared out the van window, a strange mixture of exhaustion and alertness. She’d drank and danced herself silly, but was fast sobering up, the single pill and buckets of booze wearing off by the minute. Her mind replayed snippets of the evening as Chop drove along. Finn sat between them, quiet and withdrawn. Archie, Twist, and Danny were all passed out in the back …

*

Vulva’s show had started out as your typical art-school graduate wank-fest. The paintings were all too self-consciously done (or underdone) and the descriptions printed out on cardstock and pinned next to them painfully overwrought. Archie’s contribution was the only one she thought showed any real feeling or conveyed any message. Though his recitation of those base emotions that first night in the flat had seemed almost comical, looking at his work, you could see he did feel things deeply. It was a triptych, one panel red and raw and angry, the center all mottled purple and green like a painful bruise that wouldn’t heal, and the last in shades of blue that seemed to speak a quiet sadness. And Archie’s card just had the piece’s title, “Array,” and the year.

She had grabbed two free glasses of terrible red wine, poured one glass into the other, depositing the empty on a passing tray as she took a big swig, and began to circulate through the room. She half-heartedly scanned for artists she could befriend, but was really just depressed that there were productive artists out there, even if what they were producing was mostly terrible.

She spied Finn chatting with a couple of art students, two white girls with messy dreadlocks, one of whom was wearing a studded dog collar as necklaces. He looked like he might be uncomfortable, but who was she to interrupt? She stopped in front of a completely blank white canvas and scoffed at the two paragraphs of justification next to it, when she felt someone slide up next to her and put an arm around her.

“Hey, what the fu—“ she started to protest when she looked up and saw it was Finn. He nodded toward the door and she saw Marsha standing there in an impressively eccentric all-black get up, looking like Stevie Nicks attending her own funeral. Ah, yes. Their almost-forgotten ruse. She elbowed him in the ribs playfully, and he dropped his arm, looking down at his shoes. She’d then threaded her fingers with his and they silently scorned a few more paintings before Vulva’s performance was announced.

*

Back in the van, Rae’s brain fast-forwarded past the garish stage makeup, long sustained screaming, and seizure-inducing strobe lighting that made up Vulva’s ‘show.’

*

When it was over, she had found herself, still standing next to Finn, still holding hands, half-listening to Vulva wax rhapsodic about a new collaborative partner, Hoover. So called presumably because he had vacuum parts strapped to his head and back, but privately Rae thought it was because he  _sucked_.

Her mind had drifted when Finn unconsciously ran his thumb along the outside of hers, but her attention had quickly refocused when she noticed Archie wearing a hurt expression, while Chop’s face looked like a thundercloud about to break.

Her ears had tuned in just in time to hear half an insult. “ … some of the  _shit_  I used to do with you.” Vulva laughed cruelly with a rueful shake of the head. “At least I’ve moved on,  _beyond_ childish sentimentality, past the need for approval.” Vulva glanced significantly over one shoulder at Archie’s paintings, and Chop lunged forward, punching Vulva square in the jaw.

Rae had looked from Archie to Finn, not sure what she should do, IF she should do anything. She noticed Finn’s jaw set, mouth twisted, as he let Chop get a few more swings in before letting go of her hand to pull his friend off the performance artist.

Archie had tears in his eyes as he took Chop’s other arm and they led him out to his van, in an attempt to make their getaway before anyone could call the police to the scene.

Once in the van, Chop eventually calmed down, and the group decided they should head to the Danny’s “rave” a little early to get rid of the bad experience of the show. Archie had run back into the place to grab his paintings, and when he returned, they drove off.

On the way to the club, Twist sat herself between Rae and Finn. Rae had been irritated, agitated, but distracted herself by wondering if Marsha had even seen them holding hands. Maybe she should tell their landlady the truth. They were living in the flat now, surely it didn’t matter that they weren’t really a couple? She had vowed to herself that she would talk to Finn about it in the morning.

*

Rae was drawn back to the present by a flash of orange street light reflected into her eyes by the wing mirror. She squinted, blinking rapidly, frowning as she remembered more of the evening.

*

When they had arrived at the club, Chop pulled up to the curb and told Finn, Rae and Twist to hop out. He and Archie would circle for parking and meet them inside. It was only ten-thirty, but both Rae and Finn knew Danny liked to rave early and often, and figured he’d already be inside, ready to hand round the little blue pills.

It had been one of those confusing British days, where no one knew quite how to dress, and everyone seemed to be in too many layers to comfortably dance in. After forking over a fiver each at the door and getting their hands stamped with a vicious stab, the trio entered the main area of the club. The music was already pulsing, the club at about half-capacity. People were casually swaying to the beat, no one was fully raving yet.

Rae had hooked a thumb over her shoulder towards the cave designated as the cloak room. “I’m gonna check my coat and flannel!” she shouted over the deafening dance mix. Twist nodded and took of her own jacket, thrusting it at Rae. “No sense in us all queueing, right?” she had shouted in reply, then gestured for Finn’s coat. Finn shrugged his way out of it and assumed a questioning expression, that seemed to ask, “Y’alright with this?” Rae had shrugged in the affirmative, and Finn had looked over his shoulder at Rae as Twist led him away across the half-full dance floor.

Rae had sighed, and a moment later, Chop and Archie added their coats to the pile in her arms, and she grimaced, wondering why the line was so long and not moving.

Danny had danced his way over to her, slipping a pill past her lips, her arms too full with coats. She’d swallowed with a smile, and soon, the line didn’t matter.

“Where’s your other half?” he’d shouted, and she shook her head, pretending she couldn’t hear him over the music. He shrugged and danced away.

Archie and Chop had brought her two shots as a thanks for hanging in line, which she downed gratefully.

When she finally checked the coats, shoving the number slip into her pocket, she was feeling fine. Her heart beat seemed in sync with the rapid beat of the music, and she felt like she and the room were dilating, synchronized with each other and each pulse of the bassline. She scanned the larger crowd, looking for her friends. Her eyes first recognized Chop, standing atop a platform, improvising an army-inspired dance, featuring a double salute. Archie was on the dance floor below, gazing up at him in wonder, mimicking every move. Her eyes continued to rove, squinting against the sudden strobe lights, and then saw Danny in the corner, exchanging goods for money, her suspicions confirmed about where his extra cash came from. And then … she’d spotted him. Well, them.

Finn. And Twist. Dancing together. Twist shouting something to him over the music, her shiny hair swinging, not at all sweaty and matted, like Rae knew her own must be. They looked good together, though Finn apparently hadn’t heard Twist’s comment, and glanced away for a moment. When his face swiveled back, Twist had moved closer and Rae witnessed her best friend kissing her flat mate. Fake boyfriend. Whatever. Rae couldn’t look away, and watched as Finn, clearly surprised, pulled his head back. He brought his wrist near his face, almost as if his instinct were to wipe his mouth, but he balled his fist instead and coughed. Twist had stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged before dancing away into the growing crowd.

Rae had watched Finn’s face darken with confusion, and took a step toward him before turning on her heel and rushing toward the stairs to the second floor balcony. Before she could get there, a tall bloke with a buzz cut had stepped in front her, and she bounced off his chest, gasping an apology.

“No worries, darlin’. You here on your own? Fancy dancin’ with me?”

Rae had looked up at his smirking mouth and appraising eyes and shook her head. “Sorry, no! I’m just on my way to meet a friend! Maybe later!”

*

The van lurched around a corner and she licked at her dry lips before glancing at Finn. He must have sensed her movement, because he immediately met her gaze and tried to muster a wry smile. She swallowed thickly and he leaned forward to grab something off the dash. “Water?” he offered. She nodded and gingerly took the bottle from him. After twisting off the cap and guzzling half of it, she resealed it and stared out the window again, mind slipping back into the strangest part of the evening.

*

Rae had managed to elude the giant, and made her way upstairs to the quietest corner she could find. There were wide steps covered in linoleum, used as seats during concerts at the club. She slumped against them, contemplating all manner of things: her living situation, the nature of attraction, the origin of creativity and art, the morality of love. No doubt these musings were helped along by the chemicals Danny had comped her. And underneath them all, were thoughts of Finn. She now knew for certain that she liked him; the hot sear of envy that flashed through her, followed by a shiver of despair, when she saw Finn and Twist kissing confirmed that.

The music was still really loud up on the balcony, but there wasn’t the sweaty jostle of bodies all around her, and Rae felt almost at peace. She closed her eyes, gently shaking her head to whisk her jumbled thoughts and feelings aside. For the second time that night, she felt an arm around her shoulder. She fought the urge to open her eyes, and just let herself feel the warmth of the embrace, the gentle pressure with which she was held. And when she opened her eyes, it was who she’d hope it would be.

Finn smiled at her, a lollipop stick poking out of the corner of his mouth. He handed her one, still in the wrapper, with a raise of his eyebrows.

She had taken it and twisted it between her fingers idly before unwrapping it and popping it in her mouth.

Finn opened his mouth to shout over the music. “HEY LISTEN I’M SORRY IF I’VE SEEMED OUT OF SORTS.”

Rae shook her head, shouting back, “NO YOU’RE ALRIGHT.”

“AND I DUNNO IF YOU SAW ANYTHIN’ DOWNSTAIRS BUT …” Finn looked down at his hands. “IT WASN’T …Y’KNOW … ANYTHIN’.”

Rae had felt like she was too high to deal with this scenario. She wanted to be happy. She wanted Finn to be happy. She wanted Twist to be happy. But two out of three wasn’t bad. “NO WORRIES MATE. SHIT HAPPENS AT A RAVE. WE’RE LIKE … ON ANOTHER LEVEL.”

“YEAH?”

“YEAH. THERE’S LIKE SO MANY LEVELS.” She could almost see them, in her mind’s eye, like the wide linoleum stairs they were sitting on, only stretching into an infinite void.

“YEAH?” Finn asked.

Rae rolled her eyes and nodded emphatically. “TOTALLY!”

“OH GOOD. ‘CAUSE I THOUGHT …” Finn shook his head and didn’t actually complete his thought about what he had thought. “AND I REALLY LIKE LIVING WITH YOU, Y’KNOW? YOU’RE LIKE … I DUNNO. JUST … REALLY GOOD.”

Rae started laughing at this. “NO YOU ARE. YOU’RE SO GOOD. SO GOOD!”

Finn nodded, his head moving to the steady beat of the music. “REALLY?”

“YEAH! YOUR DRAWINGS ARE AMAZING! THE ONES I’VE SEEN I MEAN.”

Finn bit his lower lip.

“I THINK WE’RE GOING TO BE FINE. THAT’S WHAT I MEAN.” She nodded at him, in the hopes he would believe her.

“WE SHOULD DO THIS MORE OFTEN. Y’KNOW GO OUT. HAVE FUN!” Finn threw his hands up.

“YEAH!” Rae raised one fist in inebriated solidarity.

“AND WHEN WE’RE BOTH SUPER SUCCESSFUL WE’LL BUY A HOUSE IN HAMPSTEAD RIGHT? INVITE ALL OUR FRIENDS ROUND FOR PARTIES LIKE THIS!”

“YEAH! WE’LL BE LIKE … KING AND QUEEN OF CLUBLAND! JUST HAVING FUN!”

“ABSOLUTELY!” Finn pulled his lollipop out of his mouth and held it up, waving it like a flag. “YOU AND ME!” Rae took hers out as well and knocked it against his in a hazy toast. Finn fell about laughing, and had actually started to move in closer, when Danny launched himself in between them, shouting “WAHEY!!!”

Finn and Rae were both laughing now, the moment disappeared like a soap bubble meeting a sharp needle. “DIDN’T MEAN TO INTERRUPT ANYTHIN’,” Danny yelled. “JUST WONDERED IF YOU TWO ‘FRIENDS’ WANTED TO COME DOWN AND JOIN THE COLLECTIVE.”

The air quotes Danny had put around ‘friends’ was not lost on Rae, but it seemed that going downstairs into the fray was the best way to chase the thoughts from her head. Finn grabbed her hand to help her up and kept hold of it as they descended the stairs into the sea of bodies undulating to the beat.

*

That was where they had stayed, after meeting up with Twist, Archie and Chop downstairs. Rae had spotted Marsha’s daughter, Izzy, on a platform, wearing an outfit not dissimilar to what her mum had worn to the art show earlier in the evening, dancing with a muscled gent in a golden Speedo and red knee-high boots like Superman’s. That was the last image Rae could remember, and it was echoing in her brain as they pulled up out front of 23 Meteor Street.

Chop yanked the parking brake up and glanced into the back of the van, barking, “Oi, you lot! We’re here!”

Everyone piled out and stumbled through the gate, up the walk and into the front door. Marsha must have left it unlocked. Chop steered Archie into his ground floor apartment while Danny, Twist, Rae and Finn staggered up the stairs.

Twist was pitching to and fro like a drunken sailor, and Finn grabbed hold of both her arms to try and stop her breaking an arm or leg, or worse, the furniture. Rae ran into the bathroom, which seemed to be a refuge for her in awkward moments. She didn’t want to see Finn and Twist go into his room. In her half-sober brain, Rae thought that maybe he reconsidered on the drive. Sure, he had been surprised when Twist kissed him, but now that he knew she was an option, he might have decided to go for it. She took her time washing the makeup off her face, staring blankly at the smudges of black around her eyes.

When she emerged, Rae glanced at Finn’s closed door, and sighed, leaning against her own doorframe for a second. The sound of someone speaking emanated from the darkness of her room.

“D’ya mind sharin’ t’night?”

Rae started at the voice. “Uh, I … I guess not. I mean, why?”

Finn sighed aloud. “Twist barged in my room, collapsed onto my bed, and then became a lead weight. Couldn’t shift her!”

Rae furrowed her brow in the dark, knowing Finn couldn’t see her expression. “Not even to the side, so you could sleep next to her?”

“Well, I, uh …” Finn cleared his throat. “I, uh, didn’t want to sleep next to her.”

Rae swallowed.

“An’ if she woke up next t’me in the mornin’? No thank you; not interested in havin’ that conversation.”

Rae cleared her throat. “Fair point. What abou—“

“—Before ya ask, Danny’s on the sofa, an’ I’m not interested in sleepin’ in an armchair or a beanbag. I’m not 17 no more.”

“Okay, then. Sure, I s’pose. We’ve kipped together before an’ it was fine, yeah?”

There was a pause before Finn responded, “Yeah, ‘xactly.”

Rae chuckled to keep things light. She looked down at her leggings, mini skirt and fitted t-shirt. She shrugged and just shimmied out of the mini, tossing it in the general direction of her closet.

The room that had been pitch black, slowly started to take on the dusky outline of the objects contained therein, the light of the streetlamp filtering through the gauzy curtain at her window. She hunched forward and held one hand out in front of her, feeling for the bed. After three paces, she found it and slid in next to Finn, shifting about until she was settled against his side, there not being room to maintain any sort of separation. She tingled wherever her body met his. She wondered if this was a terrible idea, but tried not to betray her wariness as she whispered, “This bed’s a little bit tighter quarters, though.”

Finn must have been holding his breath, because he let out a long shaky exhale when she stopped squirming. He turned on his side, placed his hand on her arm, just above the elbow, then replied, “That’s okay. We’ll survive.”

* * * * *

He knew he was taking a risk, touching her. So he picked what he hoped was an innocent spot and held back his urge to run his hand up and over her shoulder then back down to her fingertips.

The night’s events replayed themselves for him, too, but mostly, it was just him looking for Rae, finding her, only to have her slip away again. Yeah, Twist had kissed him, but he chalked that up to ecstasy, only fearing that Rae had seen the snog and got the wrong idea. Moments later, when he’d gone looking for her, he’d seen her face to face with a big solid guy, several inches taller. He remembered Rae looking up at him dumbstruck, and the bloke grinning down at her, and his own guts twisting sharply. They had looked well together. Rae might like a bloke like that. Taller, stronger, more confident. But then, she shook her head and moved past him to head up the stairs.

Finn had taken a moment to collect himself, to let his weird flare of jealousy die down before he moved to follow her. When he reached the top of the steps, he spied her in the corner, alone, her eyes seemingly fixed on the pattern of flashing lights on the ceiling. And Finn had wanted to run to her, to hold her, to kiss her. But he didn’t know what she wanted. So he plunked a pound coin on the tray of a passing waitress, grabbed two lollipops and headed over, lightening his heart and clearing his head as much as he could. They were there to have fun, after all. He should try.

*

After their shouted conversation, Finn was going to hug her. And if she’d hugged him back, if he could read in her embrace a desire for more, he would have kissed her.

But Danny had bounded in between them and joked about them being more than friends. And that was all it took to sweep away any progress that might have been made. They went downstairs and danced and drank, Finn keeping her always in his sight.

When the blinding lights of the club had been switched on at quarter to four, the ‘collective’ as Danny had called them, were sweaty and strung out, most of the booze having been pissed or perspired away. They shuffled their way outside and around the corner to Chop’s van, Finn sat silent between Chop and Rae on the ride home.

Having to deal with Twist on his own felt strange. Rae had disappeared into the loo the moment they got upstairs and Finn had let go of Twist inside the door, his attention elsewhere as she made a beeline for the biggest bed in the flat, sprawling across his duvet, limbs akimbo. He sighed deeply and trailed after her, half-heartedly trying to rouse her. Giving up quickly, he stood just outside the threshold, noting that Danny was face-planted on the sofa, and glanced over his shoulder into Rae’s room. Her twin bed was shoved into the corner, to make more room for her mess. Finn looked at the bathroom door, waited for a beat, and when Rae didn’t appear, turned and strode to her bed, stepping over clothes and books. He kicked off his shoes and climbed in.

*

His thoughts brought him back to the present. Rae’s breathing seemed to have evened and slowed, and he gently squeezed her arm as he echoed his own words in a whisper, “We’ll survive.”


End file.
